A jolt of pain runs up my arm, startling me from the partially unconscious state I had been floating in for an immeasurable amount of time. A groan slips out of my mouth before I can stop it and a sinister sounding chuckle comes from above me.

"I'm happy to see that you're still alive," the person who the chuckle had belonged to says. "I thought we had killed you with that last round of questioning."

The pain in my arm increases marginally, and it is then that I realize that the person talking has my arm trapped under their heavy boot. Cracking open my eyes, I try to see who is the person who is hovering over me, but it is pretty useless. My eyes are both so swollen, it is nearly impossible for me to open them. Only a sliver of light makes it to my eyes. Luckily, it is just enough for me to see the person who is responsible for my aching body.

Brown unruly hair with sporadic chunks missing fall gracelessly over a hallow face. The cheekbones are too prominent, making the hollows of the face look like sunken in caverns. Familiar eyes that I had once been jealous of meet mine. They are different, though, since the last time I saw them. Where they had once been calculating and clear, they now seem dark, most of the green color sucked out and replaced with black.

"Still pretty as ever, aren't I?" Zalo says from above me, his black eyes glinting in delight when I try to pull away from him. "Ah, ah, ah, not so fast. I'm not done with you yet."

His foot grinds down on my already throbbing arm, making my bones bend in directions they are not supposed to go. A yelp of pain falls from my lips, and that only seems to make Zalo even more delighted.

"Are you ready to tell me how to get into the house unnoticed," he says, crouching down so that he can get closer to me.

"Fuck off," I say through gritted teeth.

A flash of anger replaces the saccharine smile on his face, his lips turning down in a snarl and his eyes becoming dark slits. "Wrong answer."

His foot lifts from my arm, only giving me a moment of reprieve before landing down hard on my shoulder. The dull ache my body has been in for days turns into a roaring pain at the moment of contact. His foot lifts again, landing down even harder than before on my shoulder, causing it to make a sickening pop sound. The pain from before becomes even more intense as me shoulder remains out of its socket.

With one last kick to my aching shoulder, Zalo spits in my face. "I'll be back, pretty boy. Maybe next time you'll be more willing to answer my questions."

It seems like I am laying in the packed soil below me for hours, my face pressed up against the damp ground with my legs bound to an old pine tree. I don't even bother to wipe the spit from my face. The first few times he had done it, I had been disgusted, scraping away any trace of it from my face, but now I am used to it.

We have been in this small patch of forest for so many days that I have lost count. Nothing seems to pass by here, no birds or other animals, and the silence just adds to the eeriness of the place. The air is bitter cold, every gust of wind seeming to cut my skin, but I don't complain. The cold winter air cools down my aching body, making my growing number of broken bones less painful, some of them even numb. I should probably be worried about not being able to feel my toes or my fingers, but that is at the bottom of my list of things to worry about.

The only thing that truly worries me is Taylor and the baby. Every day that Zalo is with me and torturing my body to try and figure out how to get to Taylor, I know my boyfriend is safe. I know he will remain safe, too, as long as he doesn't do anything rash and stays behind those fences. Knowing Taylor, though, he is probably worrying like crazy. The thought of him having an anxiety attack causes me more pain than anything Zalo has done to me.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon, lighting up the dark forest that I have been in for way too long. The trees that had lost their leaves months ago shake in the biting wind. Too bad the sun doesn't seem to be casting off any warmth, only light. My body doesn't even shiver anymore, seeming to give up on trying to fight off the cold. Sometimes I just want to give up as well, but the thought of Taylor being all alone pushes me to fight off the death that is trying to take over my body.

With a wobbly hand, I grab onto my throbbing shoulder, gritting my teeth against the pain. This isn't the first time my shoulder has popped out of place. Hell, it happened all the time back when I played sports in high school. I know that the pain will only continue to get worse until I pop it back into place. Shutting my eyes, I feel along the bones of my arm and scapula, finding where I need to guide the misplaced bone. Taking one last deep breath, I tighten my fingers around my arm and pull it back into place. The air in my lungs slowly trickles out of my mouth as a sigh of relief. The throbbing pain from before is now a dull ache; while not as bad as before, it is still a constant reminder of what happened.

Something sounds in the far distance. Cracking open my eyes, I try to find the source of the sound, but the combination of my swollen eyes and the light fog settling over the forest makes it impossible to find. Leaning back against the tree I am tied to, I look over at Zalo and Bethany.

They stand close together, harsh whispers between them. They look as if they are arguing, Zalo running his hands through what remains of his hair and Bethany glaring at him with her arms crossed over her chest. Neither of them seems to hear whatever sound is in the distance.

The sound starts to get louder, meaning that the source is getting closer. My body pushes me to just close my eyes and fall into unconsciousness again, but something inside of me tells me not to.

Looking away from the arguing werewolves, I turn towards the direction of where the noise is coming from. It is only when it gets a little bit closer that I realize what the sound is. It sounds like a small horde of infected coming our way.

A shiver of fear runs down my spine and suddenly, I am feeling a little bit more awake. As inconspicuously as possible, I glance over at Zalo and Bethany again. The two of them still seemed to be engaged in their heated argument, not noticing the sounds that are getting closer.

Their words get a little bit louder, but still not enough for me to hear. I am just about to turn away from them when Zalo lunges towards Bethany. He pushes her against a tree, causing her to let out a loud gasp of surprise. Just when I think he is about to strangle her with his bare hands, he kisses her instead.

In a matter of seconds, the infected aren't the only ones I hear moaning. I turn away from them when their clothes start flying, knowing that I can use them being distracted as a way to escape.

The infected get closer, and I desperately start searching around for anything sharp. My eyes dart around the trees closest to me, trying to find anything useful. A surge of hope runs through me when I spot Bethany's backpack leaning against a tree not too far away from me. Zalo was always yelling at her about leaving her pack in places where it shouldn't be. I always hated how stubborn she was, since she thought she knew everything, but now I am grateful for her odd need to go against Zalo's wishes.

Rough grunts come from my left, but I refuse to even look in that direction. The thought of seeing Zalo and Bethany having sex causes my disgust from before to multiply. How they could even think about having sex when it is freezing outside and exposed to the elements baffles me. Well, they are both clinically insane, so it probably has something to do with that.

Shaking my head, I block out the sounds of the other werewolves' moaning, focusing instead on the backpack that hopefully holds the key to my escape. As quietly as I can, I fall down onto the ground, catching myself with my least hurting arm. Even though my other arm is still aching from being dislocated only moments ago, I grit my teeth against the pain and begin to army crawl towards the back pack.

The ground becomes muddier the further away I get from the tree, making it harder for me to crawl, but I persevere. The backpack is only a couple of inches away from my fingers when I can no longer crawl. The rope binding my feet to the tree keeps me from moving any further. My fingers reach out towards to backpack, but it is still too far away.

The moans of the infected are closer than they were before. Looking to the right, I am able to see their outlines in the fog. They are only about thirty feet away, too close for comfort.

I refuse to die tied to a tree. A rush of adrenaline surges through me, giving me just the energy I need to get out of here.

My flailing arm lands on a large stick, and I have never been more grateful that it is the middle of winter, meaning that the branches littering the floor are not covered by brush. The stick shakes in my hand as I move it in the direction of the backpack. It hooks onto one of the straps, but it slips away from how hard the branch is shaking from my freezing hands. With a muttered curse, I try to still my trembling hand. Somehow- I have no idea how- I manage to hook the stick under the strap, roughly jerking the pack towards me.

An internal cry of delight goes off in my head as I hug it tightly in my arms and drag myself back over to the tree. It is hard to grip the tiny metal zippers, but I manage it. The sound of the backpack unzipping goes unnoticed.

Digging around, I grumble in frustration when I cannot immediately find anything. I am just about to give up when my fingers brush against cold metal. My fingers close around the object and hastily pull it out.

It is a pocketknife, but one of the ones that has all of the extra features. Despite my fingers being practically numb, I am able to pull the blade out and make quick work of the ropes that bind me to the tree.

By the time that I am finally pulling myself up, the infected are only a little over five feet away. They don't seem to be paying any attention to me, though. They seem intent on the two still completely oblivious werewolves. They are both loud as they continue to go at each other, drawing the infected's complete attention.

"Have fun with that, assholes," I mumble when the infected finally close in on the Zalo and Bethany. They don't even stop as the infected start pulling at them; Zalo continues to thrust harshly into Bethany, and the beta is screaming out her ecstasy.

I am not able to pull my gaze away until one of the infected bites down onto the back of Zalo's neck. Bethany lets out a loud scream, which just results in the other infected latching onto her.

I grab the backpack that used to be Bethany's, stuffing the pocket knife into the main pocket and zipping it back up. With one last glance over my shoulder, I see all of the small horde of infected chowing down on my capturers. Neither of them is able to fight the infected off since they had been without weapons or clothing at the time of the attack.

Shaking my head, I start walking in the direction that Zalo and Bethany had dragged me from, and from where they always came back at the end of the day. Just over a day's walk away is the pack house, where Taylor is hopefully still at, safe and sound.

The groans from the infected and the screams from Zalo and Bethany grow quieter the further away I walk and a strange sense of calm settles over me. Before this had happened, I would have been upset over seeing two people being eaten by the infected, I probably would have even helped them.

But not this time.

They not only beat and kidnapped me, they hurt my pack mates and threatened the man I love. To know that the both of them are now gone and no longer a danger to those I love is a relief. Bethany and Zalo had been our biggest threat since the Warriors, especially since they were both smart. Usually, the craziest people happen to be the smartest.

My body doesn't seem to ache as much, now that I know that the two of them can't do anything more towards me. They were both taken out by the beasts that most of us do not even deem as that dangerous when compared to what else is out there. The monsters were taken out by the monsters. How fitting.

On trembling legs, I trudge in the direction of home. Hopefully, I will make it there without coming across anyone or anything, because I honestly don't think I would survive any threat right now. My hands tighten on the backpack straps as I try to ground myself. Even though I feel as if I am only seconds away from passing out, I refuse to close my eyes until I see that Taylor and our baby are safe. They have to be because I don't think I could survive in this world without them. With that thought in my head, I buckle down against the biting wind, refusing to think about how much I hurt as I start the long journey home.