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  ​"You alright?" Bryce asked as he reached a hand down to help Byark to his feet.

  ​"Clawed me pretty good." Byark grimaced as he took the offered hand and painfully rose to his feet. "Think he cracked a few ribs as well." He continued as he struggled for breath, reaching a hand down to his pained side.

  ​Grunt walked up to Bryce and sat next to him, staring up at his master with a look of concern and a bloody snout. "You did good boy. I'm alright." Bryce said, scratching the dog’s head. Bryce walked over to the bear’s corpse and started wiggling his hatchet free from its skull, but when some of the blade became exposed again, he could see a large crack had spread through the center of the blade from the chipped area. He decided to leave the broken weapon.

  ​They could hear yelling in the distance behind them, letting them know that the soldiers were advancing again. "No time to recover, we have to move." Bryce said. The big Swede painfully bent over to retrieve his gear from the ground. Bryce retrieved his gear as well before helping the injured Vincent to his feet. The group continued their trek, hoping to maintain a decent distance from their attackers and stay out of sight.

  ***

  ​The four women sat in fearful and confused silence while the large truck drove them to their undetermined destination.

  ​Eventually, the vehicle stopped, and the sound of the engine ceased. Moments later, the dark interior of the truck canopy was illuminated, temporarily blinding them. Peterson drew open the tarp and ordered them out. They were led into the woods that surrounded the vehicle and down a small, dirt path. Eventually, they could see a large camp filled with dozens of canvas tarp tents. Uniformed soldiers walked through the camp with purpose. Men and boys that weren't in uniform and wore civilian clothes or prison jumpsuits also moved through the camp, looking downtrodden and hopeless.

  ​Eventually, Peterson stopped at a medium sized, circular tent and drew open the tarped doorway, ordering them inside. There was a small desk with a chair inside the tent that an armed guard stood next to, and eight, thick, wooden logs that stood about nine feet tall dug deep into the ground. Peterson proceeded to handcuff each of the girl’s hands behind their backs and around individual logs.

  ​"Damn, I can't wait to get a taste of these bitches." The armed guard said, grabbing his crotch and staring at Lauren.

  ​Peterson turned and lashed out, wrapping his hand around the man's throat. "Nobody touches them until Riley's had a turn and gives the all clear, you got that?"

  ​"Yes sir." The man grunted out through a partially closed wind pipe.

  ​Peterson held his hand around the man’s throat for several seconds more, tightening the squeeze for a moment before releasing his grip. "I'll see you girls later." Peterson said, exiting the tent.

  ​They sat in silence the rest of the day and well into the night, all thinking about what had happened and what was surely going to happen to them in the days to come. Tara couldn't help but cry, and whenever the others tried to comfort her, the soldier yelled at them to shut their mouths. Eventually, her crying stopped as exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into an uncomfortable sleep. As the hours passed, and their guard was swapped out, they gave into their exhaustion one by one. Their eyelids growing heavy and closing just as the young girl’s had.

  ***

  ​They hiked through the woods the entire day, not willing to stop even after hours of not hearing the soldiers, fearing death or capture. Just before nightfall, they came upon a small, abandoned, and boarded up hut in the middle of the woods with two ATV's parked out front. They searched around for any sign of the owners, coming to the conclusion that whoever was here before must have been long gone. Bryce examined the two vehicles; the keys were in the ignition of both and after unscrewing the gas caps to get a peek inside the tank, he determined that they were about half full. "Alright, new plan." He said, screwing the second gas cap back on before turning to face the others. "We'll rest here for a few hours and patch up our wounds, make sure that those assholes aren't still following us. Once we're sure it's safe to leave, we'll hop on these two bad boys and make our way back to the truck under cover of darkness."

  ​"We should go now, I don't think Matt will make it much longer without these supplies." Byark said.

  ​"I want to get back too, but if we go now, we might lead the wannabe soldiers back to our camp or get gunned down before we even get there. Besides, you two need immediate medical treatment or you're both going to pass out and die from blood loss or infection. Matt will just have to hold on for a little while longer." Bryce responded. Byark opened his mouth to speak and Bryce knew that he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it and nodded. Even if Byark could make it back to the cabin without treatment, the doctor could not.

  ​They peeled back the boards over one of the windows and scanned around the small hut with a flashlight to make sure nothing was lying in wait to attack them. Bryce climbed in. Byark and Bryce then helped the injured doctor Vincent through and lay him on a dirty, old couch that sat inside. Byark made his way through next and they started coaxing Grunt through the window as well.

  ​There wasn't much in the hut besides the couch; two stained fold up chairs, a boombox, littered trash, cigarette and joint butts, crushed beer cans, and a few, torn up sleeping bags. Bryce guessed that squatters were living here before the virus or that teenagers snuck out here to party. "I need to check out your wound." Bryce said to Vincent. "Hold this and keep some light on him." He handed Byark the mag light he was holding. Bryce then placed the duffel filled with medical supplies on the ground next to the couch and unzipped it. Pulling up Vincent’s shirt, he began examining the wound. There were two holes, one that looked neat and symmetrical on the doctor’s lower back, and one on the side of his stomach, just above his hip bone, that looked ragged and misshapen. The hole on his back was enflamed and red, slightly trickling blood, and Bryce imagined an infection was starting to kick in. The wound on his stomach didn't seem to be getting infected yet, but it was bleeding profusely. "Through and through, you're lucky." Bryce said.

  ​"I don't think the bullet hit anything vital, or else I'd be dead already. Not much you can do but clean it and bandage it up. Hopefully I’ll heal." Vincent replied.

  ​"This is going to hurt." Bryce said as he grabbed a bottle of isopropyl alcohol out of the bag and unscrewed the cap.

  ​"Just get it over with."

  ​Bryce poured some water over both holes, washing away anything he could, and then poured the alcohol into both wounds for a few seconds each. The solution sizzled as it disinfected the wound, and Vincent's whole body clenched up in pain. The doctor managed to stifle any cries of agony that were building up inside of him. Bryce used one of the bandages to dry the wounds and the surrounding area before applying two, fresh bandages with some medical tape. He reached into the duffel and foraged around until he came out with two pill bottles, one containing antibiotics and one containing painkillers. He handed Vincent two pills from each bottle and the remnants of the bottle of water he used to wash off the wounds. "That's really all we can do for you until we get back to the cabin. Take these and try to get some rest." Bryce said, turning to hand another four pills to Byark. The big man untied the buck hide water skin from his belt and downed the pills. "Your next buddy, have a seat in one of the chairs."

  ​"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt at all. Magic hands this one has." Vincent said through gritted teeth, painfully readjusting himself on the couch.

  ​Byark let out a hearty laugh. "I can take the pain, trust me friend. I've had far worse wounds than this."

  ​"I wouldn't doubt that boast from a strapping and muscular Viking such as yourself." Vincent replied, closing his eyes to get some sleep. Bryce cleaned and bandaged Byark’s wound as well, and the big man lay on the dirty floor afterwards to get some rest. Bryce, being the only uninjured, human member of their group, decided to stay up and keep watch.

  ​Hours passed quietly into the night as Bryce stared through
the cracks in-between the boards on the windows and into the moonlit forest around the small hut, slowly rubbing his fingers through a tuft of Grunt's fur. He heard Vincent let out a small groan while changing position on the couch. "Almost time to leave? It's practically impossible to sleep on this drab excuse for a couch, especially with this dreadful wound." Vincent said as he sat up.

  ​"Almost." Bryce said, approaching the man and eyeing the blood-soaked bandage on his stomach. "Should probably change those real quick." Vincent nodded painfully. As Bryce began to work, he asked Vincent the question that had been running through his mind all night. "Hey, doc?"

  ​"Yes, my boy." Vincent replied.

  ​"In the hospital, you said that there were two possible ways you know of to stop the infection. If one way is amputation, then what's the other?" Bryce asked as he finished replacing the first bandage and cleaning the wound.

  ​"Well, quite frankly, death and resurrection I'm afraid." Vincent said, squeezing the arm rest of the couch in an attempt to deal with his pain.

  ​"What the hell does that mean?" Bryce asked, starting to remove the second bandage.

  ​"The virus needs a host in order to live in its new state, when the host dies, the virus soon follows. Precisely thirty seconds to one minute and forty-five seconds after in my experience. Now, I've only attempted to test this theory once, and I wasn't able to revive the subject. Before you say anything, the soldiers forced me to do this against my will, I had no choice you see. However, I think it should work. If you were able to kill someone that was infected and then revive them, I believe they would come back infection free." Vincent finished just as Bryce finished changing the wound dressing. Bryce sat in silence for a few moments, thinking about what the doctor had just said.

  ​"Well, that's good to know." Byark said, breaking through the silence.

  ​"Couldn't sleep either I see?" Vincent asked playfully, almost flirtatiously as he stared at Byark.

  ​"Let me change your bandage too, then we should pack up and get the hell out of this dump." Bryce said.

  ​"I second that motion." Vincent added.

  ​"Fine by me, I'm ready to get home." Byark said, starting to take off his bandages himself.

  ***

  ​Catori woke as a small man with red hair stumbled drunkenly into their tent, bringing a terrible wreak of excessive amounts of scotch with him. "Wait outside." He ordered the guard.

  ​"Yes sir." The guard said with a crisp salute before exiting the tent.

  ​This must be Riley. The man stood in silence, looking back and forth between the four of them for nearly a minute, eventually focusing his gaze on Sarah. He walked up to her and thrust his crotch into the teenage girl’s face. She tried to pull away, but the wooden beam behind her stopped her head’s retreat. "Ever been with a real man little girl?" Riley said as he continued to rub his crotch against her face, a small bulge beginning to form in his pants.

  ​Sarah began to cry and make horrible noises of fear and helplessness. "Leave her alone!" Tara cried out through her own tears.

  ​"Shut up you little bitch!" Riley yelled as he turned and slapped the little girl across her face. "You're coming with me." Riley said, thrusting his crotch into Sarah's face again and pulling out the key to her handcuffs. "You're going to be my little girl tonight baby."

  ​"Why don't you take me instead baby? You don't want some gross little kid who doesn't know what she's doing crying and snotting all over you." Catori pleaded in a desperate attempt to stop the teenage girl from being raped.

  ​"Oh, that's exactly what I want." Riley replied, grabbing Sarah's face and spitting into her mouth. She screamed and sobbed even louder now.

  ​"Trust me, you're going to want to experience me daddy. I can be a good little girl for you, or a slutty, little, bad girl if that's what you want. I know how to please you daddy." Catori said seductively, trying to appeal to the man's disgusting perversions.

  ​Riley froze in place for a moment, then slowly turned his gaze to Catori. He walked over to her and stood in front of her, slowly pushing his crotch forward and towards her face. "Show me how you can be a good girl." She rubbed her partially parted lips back and forth against the small bulge in his pants, and then kissed it and licked slowly up it. Riley's body let out an involuntary shiver. "What about being a bad girl?"

  ​"Well, you're just going to have to take me back to your bed and fuck me hard with that big cock daddy if you want to see just how bad I can be." Catori said, her own words disgusting her and making her want to cry.

  ​Riley shot a hand out unexpectedly and gripped it around her throat, slamming the back of her head into the wooden beam behind her. "What if I want you to cry and scream? What if I want you to bleed?"

  ​"Then I'll cry and scream and bleed." Catori responded, trying desperately to hide her fear.

  ​"I guess you'll do then, I've never fucked a native bitch before." Riley said as he bent over and unlocked her handcuffs. He aggressively yanked her to her feet and started dragging her out of the tent.

  ​"I'm so sorry." Sarah said through her sobs, and Catori turned to see the other three women's horrified and distraught faces.

  ​She forced a weak smile and mouthed the words "It's okay.", just before Riley pulled her out of the tent and into the open campground.

  ​"Go back in and guard the other three." Riley ordered the guard who then quickly disappeared back inside.

  ​As he pulled her along, she couldn't help but think about killing him. Either here and now, or when they were alone in his tent. She knew she could do it, not only was she capable of the act physically and mentally, but he underestimated her and wouldn't expect it or see it coming. Killing him would mean that she wouldn't make it out of this camp alive, but that was fine with her. She'd rather die than live through what this sick fuck was about to do to her. What about the others? What if they kill them or worse for what she's done? No, I have to wait and bide my time, I have to protect them. Bryce and Byark will come for us and once they do, we have to all be here waiting, ready to fight and kill these psychopaths. Revenge will come soon enough, just hold on and survive.

  CHAPTER 18

  ​Alejandro awoke to the sound of laughter. His head was plagued with a horrible throbbing and the left side of his face, particularly his jaw, ached with the most searing pain he'd ever experienced. His thoughts and memories were scrambled in his concussed mind, and he didn't know where he was or what had happened to him. A memory of being in a roadside bombing in Iraq flashed through his mind and the confusion and head ache were so similar that for a moment, he thought he was back there, in Iraq. No. Iraq was a long time ago. You just have a bad concussion. He tried to lift his head up from the sticky, wooden floor below it and stopped, a shot of electrical pain searing through his spine and jaw. The pain in his face worsened now, and his neck felt like it was broken. He slightly moved one of his arms and then one of his feet. Good, you're not paralyzed. He attempted to call out for his unit, but the pain in his jaw was too immense to move his mouth.