So much death. So much needless death.
Law stepped onto the grass, eyes glued to the countless piles of bodies, both clothed and naked, covered in the ever-growing puddles of blood surrounding them. Half of the open clearing where most of the residents would relax for dinner or simply to converse between each other, was stained red with their dark red blood. Flies swarmed on and over the corpses, buzzing annoyingly about what was once the people who'd been around them over the past month.
Behind him, Shachi and Penguin reluctantly left the trailer, stopping at the gruesome sight awaiting them. One of them gagged at the pungent, metallic scent of blood that permeated the very air, but Law could not find it in himself to tear his eyes away from the bullet holes riddling the sides of the nearest trailers, or the way some of the corpse's eyes were still open, staring into the sky as if they were only stargazing.
The moon's light was the only thing, besides the low-dying fire, to illuminate the scene, the rest of the forest covered in darkness. The eerie stillness of the camp was unsettling, and Law's squelching footsteps sounded ten times louder in his ears than what they probably were. The silence was so deafening, it felt disrespectful to make any noise at all. The ground beneath his feet sunk slightly from all the wetness, and he wandered over to the first pile of corpses.
Alejandro and Terence from the construction team. Shachi and Penguin gasped at the sight of their friends dead, but Law moved on to the next person, then the next, eyes searching the faces for anyone who may still be alive. His hopes were dying on anyone living through the horror that took place here, seeing no fluttering eyelids or shuttered breathing of any kind from the bodies laying there.
Pile after pile Law searched, finding no survivors. It didn't surprise him that much to realize that they were the only ones to live. The world was just cruel like that. Or kind, depending on how you looked at it, especially considering he hadn't lost his two dearest friends. Small victories.
Finally, his feet took him to Margaret's corpse, lying face first in the ground where she'd been shot. With his foot, he turned her body over, sickened by the dead weight of what had once been a living person not two hours ago. Corpses had never bothered him, even in the world before, but seeing a fresh one, and of someone he'd known at that, was discouraging and depressing to say the least. The bullet had gone straight through the middle of her forehead, and her face was lax in a neutral expression, eyes still open in what he could only describe as a creepy way.
For awhile, he simply stared, wondering what she'd say if she still could. Cry that it wasn't fair? Mourn her luck? Pray that her sins had been forgiven? Curse him for bringing all of this on them? No, this wasn't on him. Technically, it was on Lexi, though he couldn't see any fault in her actions or reasonings. Though when it all came down to it, this was Damien's doing, through and through, giving Law all the more reason to loathe the man.
The color from a Margaret's face had mostly faded, and her body was beginning to swell. He supposed he should feel worse about her death, but Law couldn't bring himself to entirely care. She'd been a thorn in his side ever since they arrived, even more so after the little trip they took together, but that didn't necessarily call for her death. Perhaps he'd lost more of his humanity than he'd claimed earlier that morning to this same woman.
Finally turning away from Margaret's upturned and staring eyes, Law swept his gaze across the empty trailers. There were no heads peeking out from the doorways. No cowering residents who'd managed to hide from the tragedy like they had. Nothing to indicate survivors of any kind. By this time, he knew it was pointless to look, but a part of him deep down, the part he thought had died along with the world, hoped that someone, anyone, was still alive here with them.
Law was amazed that a horde of the undead had not already arrived to the camp, though he supposed there weren't a lot wandering around in this area to begin with anymore. Still, he didn't want to stick around long enough to find out if they would. He sighed, the sorrow beginning to seep into that numbing shock he'd felt from before. A heavy weight pressed itself on his shoulders.
"Grab our bags and take what you can from the pantry." Law broke the silence, causing his two companions to jump from the sudden sound. "I'll see what weapons are left in the armory." They looked at him sadly, but didn't protest as they turned away to head back to their shared trailer. The sound of their feet on the trailer steps prompted him back into movement. Walking carefully, cautiously so as not to trip and fall on the slippery grass or a stray body, Law made his way to the armory where the weapons were stored.
Why Damien didn't think to raid the camp Law couldn't understand, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if it meant he still had his sword and an arsenal of various weapons to defend themselves with. The metal gate was connected immediately to the armory, and he tried the knob. It wouldn't move, locked. Law cursed, glancing back and forth as if the answer would present itself to him.
He'd need a key, but there was nowhere for him to think of looking first-
His eyes drifted over to Marve's corpse, most of the man's head missing from the gunshot to his head. Being the main guardsman, he was sure to have the key. Law wasn't looking forward to getting up close and personal with the man's dead body, but it seemed unavoidable if Law wanted to get his weapon back.
With a resigned sigh, he wandered back over to the man's body, flipping him over just like he had Margaret. The man's face was partially gone, thanks to the hole in the top of his head. Law searched for a necklace or anything that would have the key, but nothing jumped out at him. Kneeling on the ground immediately wet his knees with the stain of blood, but Law faced it with grit teeth, digging through the man's pockets in his jacket for any sign of what he was looking for.
He heard Shachi and Penguin shuffling around behind him, no doubt to go to the pantry to stock up on whatever food they could find. Shachi walked up beside him and gave him his bag, knowing he'd need the space to hold whatever he found in terms of weapons. Then, he turned and followed after Penguin to fill their own packs. In the meantime, Law eventually dug the key from Marve's inside jacket pocket.
Approaching the armory door again, this time with bag in hand, he tried the key and was relieved to hear it click into place. Swinging the door open, he peered into the darkened room, barely making out a large shelf with various weapons stuffed on it's shelves. There was a table with a large box, almost the size of a trunk, atop it, and he went there first. He dropped the bag on the table beside him. The box held a varied selection of limited ammo, collected by the camp over the few years they'd established the place.
Law took his time to inspect them all, picking and counting what was available for him to take. Whatever had the most use and ammo, he matched to the weapon on the shelf behind him. His sword was propped against the wall in the corner, and he quickly slung the sheath on his back, feeling the grip in comfort. It was good to have it back.
The stock wasn't as large as he'd hoped for, but it was all they had, so he filled the bag with what he could, lugging half a dozen weapons into the bag, tucking a pistol on his belt and saving a few for Shachi and Penguin. Once he'd cleared what he could carry and what would fit into the bag from the armory, he made his way back outside, shutting the door behind him and tucking the key into his pocket. Wouldn't hurt to keep the means of getting into the other weapons, just in case.
Law met Shachi and Penguin outside, seeing they'd stuffed their packs full and were standing in the middle of the clearing. It was obvious they were trying to avoid looking at the signs of death around them, but seeing as the bodies were everywhere, it was difficult to do so. The three stood together in the middle of the ruined camp, the bodies of their companions littering the ground around them.
"Should we…you know…bury them?" Shachi eventually asked, eyes downcast to the grass.
"It would take forever to dig all those graves." Penguin said, trying to be realistic about it.
"Yeah, but still…"
"Leave them as they are. There's nothing more we can do for them." Law said resolutely, trying to be gentle about the suggestion but knowing there wasn't really anything nice about the situation anyways. "Besides, if we want to catch up to Damien's group in time, we'd best leave soon."
"Wait…we're really going after that guy?" Shachi voiced their surprise, both of their eyebrows raising at Law's suggestion. He regarded them in confusion, not quite understanding their reactions.
"You want to rescue Lexi, don't you?" Law clarified, and they nodded vigorously.
"Yeah!"
"Of course, we just didn't think-"
"That I'd want to?" He guessed, and they reluctantly nodded.
"We know how cautious you are, and seeing as it'll be dangerous to follow after them…"
"Plus you've always been pretty wary about her, so we figured you'd just want us to move on like always."
"I'll admit, I'm tempted." He answered honestly, lowering his head as he thought about his words. "But Lexi is a survivor. She's saved our lives a few times already, so it's no longer a matter of if I trust her or not. I'd like to ask her to come with us if possible, but we'll have to get her back first."
Shachi and Penguin both perked up at that revelation, looking decidedly more invigorated at the prospect of finding the brunette. Then, the reality of the circumstances began to sink in, and they deflated.
"The numbers are ten to three, though."
"How are we supposed to get her back? And what about the other women?"
"We'll figure that out once we get there, but all the same, our goal is to retrieve Lexi." Law replied, slinging the backpack onto his back and adjusting the holster of the pistol on his hip. Regarding the both of them, he nodded again. "Besides, I'm rather eager to see this bastard dead. Wouldn't you agree?"
Shachi and Penguin nodded their own enthusiasm, following after Law as they headed towards the direction Law believed Damien's group to have gone.
Lexi could feel her previously-shed tears crusting her cheeks, the track marks rolling down her chin and past her collar bone. The shirt she had been wearing earlier would have soaked up the moisture, but since they'd forced her to undress, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, her tears rolled down until it eventually evaporated on her skin.
Eyes red and itchy from the crying, Lexi kept her head down as her and the rest of the woman were forced to walk together in their rope line, tied around their wrists and waists so they couldn't escape. The men nearest to her, the younger boy included, would openly talk about their state of undress, rating or complimenting their bodies as they walked through the forest barefoot. The men didn't seem too worried about the possibility of their feet being torn up from the shrubbery and stickers littering the underbrush of the forest, and so the women had to suck up the pain silently, letting only the smallest of sobs escape them.
Lexi was surprised and comforted by the strength of the women around her, knowing it gave herself a stronger determination to prolong her life just a little bit more. She wouldn't be dying today, no sir, not if she had anything to say about it.
Despite her self-determination, the ever-present fear of the atrocities she'd witnessed while confined in the group's encampment still weighed heavily on her conscious. It was something possibly worse than death; being violated and able to do absolutely nothing about it.
The two men closest her chuckled at something under their breaths, snapping Lexi out of her thoughts for the time being. She dared a glance in their direction, slightly thankful and guilty at the same time to realize they weren't looking directly at her, but a woman a few people in front of her. She felt awful for thinking it, that at least it wasn't her, knowing that the more men who noticed you with this group, the more likely you'd be raped.
More than once, she heard a woman whimper because the men got a little too handsy. They'd occasionally touch their breasts or stroke their back, teasingly promising to do worse things later on. Lexi only hoped she wouldn't be included in those fantasies.
A man just behind them however, no, the boy rather, was staring at her hungrily, and Lexi swallowed the lump at the back of her throat, unconsciously trying to pull her roped wrists higher in front of her exposed chest to cover them, feeling dirty and worthless just having him look at her that way. His eyes drifted further down her body to where she couldn't cover even if she wanted to, and Lexi finally turned her head away, pretending that nothing was happening to begin with in an effort to stop it.
It was fortunate that it was still during the summer months, otherwise the air this late into the night would have been chilly and uncomfortable to the unclothed women, but the general temperature was otherwise pleasant. At least they wouldn't have to worry about freezing to death. Lexi's only consolation, which wasn't all that consoling to be frank, was that Damien wanted them to reach the compound alive and well so they could be of…use.
"Alright, I'd say we made some progress tonight. Let's camp here and carry on tomorrow morning." Damien eventually interrupted, stopping in the middle of a thicker area of the forest, forming a sort of wall on either side of them that zombies—or people, Lexi thought with a speck of hope—would find it difficult to get through.
One of the guards roughly shoved the first woman in line, Tara, towards an edge of the clearing, shoving her down to sit on the ground. This forced the rest of them to follow suit, their bonds giving no room to move around or allow for freedom of any kind. Lexi found herself sitting between two older yet still attractive women, both having lost that flame of survival in their eyes. Lexi recognized that look, so familiar to her after staying with the other women who'd been there before she escaped at the compound.
The men began pitching their sleeping rolls and the few tents they were in possession of. Damien, of course, took one of them, leaving the rest of the men besides the higher-up ranked ones to sleep out in the open. Two or three of them were on guard at any given time, one of which were assigned to watch the women should they try to escape.
For the next half hour, they sat in fear as the other men prepared to head to sleep. Lexi tried to catch the eye of the women closest to her, but when she tried they only looked away with a glare. It was then that Lexi realized they must blame her for everything that had happened to them. If not for her arrival at their camp, things never would have ended up this way. That sobering thought stopped her from trying to learn a little more about who was captured with her, knowing they probably didn't want anything to do with her in the first place.
A rather sharp rock was digging into her hip, though her bound hands were restricted and there was nothing to do about it. Irritatingly, Lexi wiggled in place trying to fix the problem, head still kept low so as not to draw too much attention to herself.
Unfortunately, Damien and the younger boy chose that moment to pay her a visit, the older man stopping a few feet away and crouching to regard her. Lexi refused to look him in the eye, dodging his gaze as best she could. For several moments, he just stayed there, staring, no doubt at her exposed breasts which Lexi could do nothing to cover. Then, he laughed under his breath in amusement.
"Thought you could escape, did ya?"
Lexi didn't bother to give a reply.
"Cat got your tongue?" He hissed, his hand snatching out to grab her neck. She jerked, gasping as he pulled her face closer to look him in the eye forcefully. His grip was stronger than the metal collar ever used to be. "Answer me, bitch."
"Ugh!" She gasped, trying to pry his fingers off her neck, but to no avail. Damien examined her face, waiting for an answer. Behind him, the boy grinned as if this were all some game, some big joke. It was sickening. "Ye-yeah…" Lexi eventually ground out, sucking in air as he let her go. The leader stood again, wiping his hands on his pants as if he'd just touched something filthy.
"We'll make sure you don't ever get that idea again, especially after what I have in store for you once we get back." He threatened, standing straighter and turning to walk back to his tent, the boy following him obediently, lost an imprinted duck.
Lexi panted with the need for air, slowly gaining back her breath. The women around her said nothing, didn't even look sorry for her, but this wasn't surprising anymore. They hated her, after all. She had no allies here, and there didn't appear to be any chance of rescue or escape this time around.
The reality of her impending death, or eventual rape, finally began to sink in, and a fresh flow of tears touched the corner of her eyes. Lexi was never the praying type, but maybe now was as good a time to start as any for some sort of miracle.
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