the way home ⠀ ོ

003

"And Mandy?"

The woman, Ruth, looked over to her companion, her head tilting to the side and something like sympathy softening her face.

The man spit the wad of chew out onto the ground, grunting. "Ain't heard a thing from her since last night," he grumbled, slipping the container from his shirt pocket and popping off the plastic lid, stuffing his cheek full of the stuff. "Fuckers probably got to her too."

Ruth let out a stream of expletives under her breath. "We'll make them pay," she says once she's finished. "Make them hurt for what they tried to take from us."

The man grunts, still working on his wad of chew.

Ruth studied her partner with narrowed eyes for a long moment before a cruel smile curves at her lips, showing broken and yellowed teeth. "Starting with these two strays," she said, resting the barrel of her AR on her shoulder as she steps to the back truck.

Shit.

Abby bit back the curse before it had a chance to leave her lips, sinking back into the tall grass as the woman walked past by. Her plan hadn't exactly factored in there being any else but the Rattlers.

Her grip tightened on the knife and she forced it to relax, forced her breathing to still.

The man stuffed some more chew into his bulging cheek, colored drool dribbling from the side of his mouth as he turned and followed Ruth to the back of one of the trucks. She opened the tailgate, climbing up onto the bed. Brambles pulled at Abby's shirt, rocks digging into her arms and shins as she slunk further back into the thick foliage.

Ruth kicked at something in the bed of the truck, a muffled groan of pain following as she kicked them hard again. "Quit struggling, or else I start with that pretty little face of yours."

A cruel smile pulled at her lips and she slipped a knife from the sheath hanging off her side. She watched the why the light glinted on it, looking down at the writhing figure in the trunk of the car.

The man stepped to the back of the truck, looking to the house the others had gone into before turning his head and spitting. "Mick aint gonna be happy he finds out what you did," he said, a serious note in his voice.

Ruth shrugged. "He's not finding out. You tried escaping, ain't that right?"

A muffled scream replied, one that didn't carry far.

"Just like last night," she added, reaching down and grabbing a handful of hair. Thumps sounded against the truck bed as they tried to struggle, their body writhing as it was yanked off the tailgate, landing with a thud on the ground. Ruth kicked them again for good measure.

"You're not getting away from us. Never," she told the man, holding out the knife. She looked to her partner, suddenly flipping it around and offering it hilt first. "Care to do the honors?"

Red tinged spittle leaked from the corner of his mouth as he smiled, stepping up and grabbing the knife. His back was turned now, Abby knew it was her last chance. She moved quickly through the long grass, the thin kitchen knife in her hand.

The woman looked up just in time to see Abby emerge from the shadows. Her eyes went wide but before she could shout the warning, the knife plunged into the Rattler's neck. Again and again, until he fell, blood spraying in a red mist from the severed jugular.

"Cole!" Ruth yelled, trying to aim her rifle as Abby crashed into her.

The two went sprawling on the street, several shots firing from the rifle. So much for stealth. The woman jammed her knee into Abby's ribs, nearly throwing her off, but Abby held fast, still trying to rip the rifle from her hands.

The woman grunted, trying to headbutt her, trying to claw at her cut cheek, anything to let get her off. Abby didn't budge through, half starved and nearly a skeleton herself, she wouldn't hold her back. Nothing would. She managed to get a knee up, pressing it against the woman's arm and putting all her weight on it. The woman tried to get it off, but before she could do anything Abby brought down her fist, slamming into her jaw. Stunned, the woman stopped struggling a moment and the rifle was ripped from her hand. Abby stood, bringing the butt of the rifle down hard against her head and watching as her body went slack.

She looked back to the house, in time to see the other Rattlers in the doorway.

"Fuck," she swore, ducking back around a low wall near the street as bullets began to tear up the ground by her feet.

Several struck the stray before she had even a chance to pull him back too, his muffled screaming going silent as he stopped writhing. She looked back, not recognizing him, and feeling some small measure of relief.

Relief that was short lived as another bullet struck the ground nearby. She held her rifle close, listening to their shouts before standing up from cover. She fired without thought, hitting one of the men dead in the chest. She swiveled the gun, hitting another man as he tried to move around the buildings. It was only a glancing blow though before she had to duck again, chips of brick wall spraying around her as the bullets struck it. They were trying to flank her, and with a quick look around the ruined buildings and abandoned cars, she knew it wouldn't be too difficult to do so.

She had thirty seconds, she guesstimated. If she was lucky.

She let out a steady breath, breaking out in a sudden sprint from cover. The ground tore up at her feet. She could almost feel the rush of air as the bullets shot past her. She didn't slow though, sliding to a rough stop behind a rusted van. Pain shot through her battered body and it took all she had not to cry out as her shoulder wound was jostled. Warm tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, waiting for the sound of semi-automatic fire to stop.

When it did she rose from cover, aiming at the spot it had been coming from. Except the doorway was empty. She turned, not even seeing the movement beside her until the bat struck her.