sunshine // joel miller

TWENTY ONE

Chapter Twenty One
Husband

Fran didn't expect to wake up in a dark room, she didn't expect to wake up at all.

On the cold grass outside of the university, knowing that Ellie had got away and could get Joel help, she accepted that it was the last thing she'd ever do. That it was her purpose, to save the two that she knew she could save.

She knew she wasn't gonna get away, she didn't expect the raiders to take her somewhere. She expected them to kill her in retaliation to their friend dying.

She didn't know where she was, all the knew is that she was freezing cold. Her coat and her jacket had been taken, leaving her in a long sleeved shirt and her jeans. The room she was in had no light and no heat, leaving her chilled to the bone as she tried to get her bearings.

Her head was pounding as her eyes refused to adjust to the light; she could feel the blood that had hardened on her top lip, the crust agitating her as she tried to move her hands.

She was tried to a chair, wrists tied to the arms of each, ankles tied to the legs of it as she tried to move around. The inability to move panicked her further, having no idea what these people wanted from her.

"We got a younger one!"

Nineteen year old Fran was shaking like a leaf from the back of the car she'd been thrown in. There was a bandana around her eyes, stopping her from being able to see, and a calloused hand over her wrist as she tried to keep her breathing steady.

"Oh, yeah? Guess it's our lucky day!"

Fran shook her head to rid herself of the memory, only making her head hurt more and she closed her eyes tightly. Her breathing was picking up out of panic, trying to move around more when the door opened.

She froze at the noise, eyes looking to the small light that appeared in the doorway. A man was stood there, leaning against it and staring her down for a moment before entering and turning on a light switch. Cool lights filled the room, the cold colour reflecting the look in the man's eyes as he moved closer, closing the door behind him.

Fran stayed silent as he moved around the room, grabbing a seat from the side and moving it in front of her, taking a seat and staring her down.

"Hello," He spoke as he put his hands on his knees, looking her up and down. Her eyes stayed trained on his own, a harsh glare on her face. The man had a smile on his face though; which confused her, "My name is David, what's yours?"

She stayed silent.

"Well, ma'am," the man settled on after realising he wasn't getting a response, "you know why you're here?"

She stayed silent again, her glare remaining strong.

"I've got to say, it was a shock when my men came back with you. Something about your friend killing one of my friends. Ring any bells?" He asked her, eyebrows raised. It sounded like he was talking to a kid; and Fran was having none of it.

"I asked you a question," his kinder demeanour was gone in a second as he snapped the words at her; eyes trained on her own, "it warrants an answer."

"Non parlo inglese," She said back, her voice low as she forced herself not to wince at the pain in her face. Her answer made him raise his eyebrows; but he didn't falter.