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.
"You parlo inglese just fine," He said with a small twisted smile. "They heard you telling the young girl to go, told her you'd be right behind her."
Fran refused to show her anxiousness, keeping her gaze strong.
"Non parlo inglese," She spoke again.
"You lied to that girl, and you're lying to me." He said to her, shaking his head and tutting, "You see... I don't like liars."
Fran faltered slightly when the man stood and turned, a large knife in his back pocket ringing alarm bells in her head.
It had a similar handle to the one she'd had to stab back into Joel.
Suddenly her head was filled with worry, hoping to whoever was up there that they had got somewhere safe, that Joel had kept the knife in to stop the bleeding. That the two were alive.
"Are you a religious person?" He asks her then, back still turned to her. She wasn't, she knew she wasn't, because if she was she would've been dead outside the university, god would have spared her from this conversation.
"The doom of liars is spoke of in Proverbs 19:9," the man continues when she refuses to speak, staring to walk behind Fran. Her eyes just stay forward, refusing to give into her fear, "he or she who speaks lies shall perish. They will be judged and sent to hell."
His hand reached up then, knife to Fran's neck: her head naturally went back, trying to get as far away from it as possible. He just brought it closer, the sharp blade pressed to her skin.
"Psalm 5:6, you destroy those who speak lies; the lord abhors the deceitful man." He continued in her ear now, his hot breath making her cringe.
The door opened once again, another man walking in and closing the door, observing the scene as he walked closer.
"You see, it's your lucky day," David moved the knife away at the entrance of the man, walking back in front of her as she took a deep breath, "I'm feeling forgiving. So you tell me something, I'll let you live. Where is the man and the girl?"
Fran stayed silent.
The other man came to stand next to David now; arms crossed over each other as he glared down at Fran.
"I don't want to hurt you," David said to her with a fake smile, before looking to the other man, "but he does. Your friend killed his brother. Your friend left a little girl without a father."
She did feel bad for the girl, but if she had to choose between that man dying or Joel, she'd pick the stranger every time.
"Your god killed mine," She couldn't help but argue. How anyone managed to hold faith after outbreak day as shocking to her, no god would allow this to happen. Their god had allowed her father to die, fair is fair.
"Where are they?" He asked, ignoring her argument. Fran swallowed harshly when she watched the other man roll up his sleeves.
Her silence was enough for the unnamed man, him moving forward and punching her straight in the face. She tried her hardest to not make a noise, head falling back at the impact.
Her nose started to bleed again, her whole face stinging with pins and needles.
"You gonna answer him?" David asked, to which Fran glared.
He punched her again, and again, and again, until her whole face was numb and her eyes felt heavy. She couldn't answer even if she wanted to - and she'd rather die than answer. The man was blinded with rage as he threw punch after punch, David moving him away when he noticed Fran was on the brink of consciousness.
"You don't know, do you?" David then asked, Fran's eyes widening just slightly giving him the answer he needed. He turned to the other man then, both of them leaving the room, turning off the light and slamming the door behind them.
The second she was alone, she let out a small cry at all the pain, hoping they wouldn't come back anytime soon.
-
They didn't come back until the next day. It was a painful night for Fran, who was still tied to the chair. Her lower back was burning and her bruises had plenty of time to develop overnight.
A man had also been sat in the corner all night, spinning a knife in his hands. He was silent as he did so, just staring at her. His presence was enough to keep her on edge, refusing to sleep.
Her eyes were heavy when David made an appearance once again. This time he had her bag in his hands, a bag that had been attached to the horse she was supposed to take. He took his seat in front of her once again, her eyes lazily following his movements as he started to empty the contents.
"We found the girl," he seemed nonchalant at the words, Fran's heart picking up at the idea that she has been taken, "she was out hunting for her and the man."
Fran stayed silent, if she was hunting alone it meant Joel was still hurt. He'd never allow Ellie out on her own.
"Spare jeans," he moved on the topic as if it didn't matter, holding up the jeans that she had first been given by Maria. Her embroidered ones that matched Sam on her legs, "tells me you're resourceful."
"What'd you do to her?" Fran asked, not liking the topic change.
He grabbed the next thing out, her small package of jerky in his hand now, he opened it, taking a bite, "very resourceful."
"What did you do?" She yelled at him then, leaning forward in her chair as much as she could. Her heart was pounding at the idea of Ellie being hurt and Joel being injured on his own.
"It's not nice when people don't answer you, is it?" David asked then, as if this was some sick lesson for her to learn. At her glare, he continued, "I gave her medicine, and she ran."
The answer confused Fran, her head tilting slightly.
"Seems your friend isn't doing as well as you hoped," David said then with a sick smile, "a little girl having to help him."
Fran watched then as he went back into her bag, grabbing her favorite childhood book, little miss sunshine. He held it between his hands, flipping through the pages carefully.
"You're her mother?" He asked her then, assuming it from the anger she'd felt, along with the childhood memorabilia she seemed to carry with her.
Fran hesitated to answer.
"Or you see yourself as her mother," He reiterated, seeming to understand the answer. "Either way, I'm guessing you'd never want to see her hurt?"
Silence greeted his question, his eyebrows raised as he looked over to the man still sat in the corner. The man seemed to understand, standing up and walking over with haste.
Without warning, the man stabbed his knife right through Fran's hand, making her scream out in pain as her body surged forward, hand now pinned to the seat as she heaved out heavy breaths.
"What did I tell you yesterday?" David asked, shaking his head as if she was in the wrong, "Questions warrant answers."
The man left the knife in her hand, taking a step back as she breathed heavily.
"You'd never want to see her hurt, would you?" He was yelling as he asked now, face way too close to hers.
"No, of course I wouldn't!" Fran yelled back in his face, the answer satisfied him enough.
"Where can I find the man?" He asked her then, clearly assuming that she would know where they'd run off to. Truthfully she didn't, it hadn't been discussed. She didn't know if they were on their way to Jackson or if they were moving on to where the fireflies were meeting up.
"I don't know," Fran didn't hesitate to answer.
"Not good enough, I'm afraid," David said with a sigh, getting his own knife out and hovering it over her other hand, "where is he?"
"How would I know!" She argued back.
"You're testing my patience," David shook his head as he spoke; quickly lifting the knife and slicing her arm, "there's more of that if you don't answer."
"I don't know!" Fran snapped, "and even if I did; your knife wouldn't scare me into telling you."
It was then that David looked back at her injured hand, noticing the plastic ring that adorned her pinky finger.
"What's this?" He asked, pointing at it with his knife.
"None of your business," Fran told him shortly, not entertaining the topic change.
He put his grubby fingers on it, stealing it from her finger before he could protest and held it up to his eye, inspecting it.
"Rings are hard to come by in the new world," David commented, playing with it now, "who gave you the ring?"
"None of your business," She repeated her earlier words, making David roll his eyes.
"It's made of plastic," He said as if it wasn't bright purple, "too small for the wedding finger... did our wanted man give this to you?"
Fran didn't entertain the answer.
"You're trying to save your husband's life," David seemed to realise, and while he was right, Joel would've laughed at the husband comment. He put the ring into his back pocket, "I understand now."
"You don't know shit," Fran muttered.
"How about this," David leaned his hands over Fran's own now, purposefully moving the knife still bedded into her hand. The feeling making her feel sick, "you tell me where he is, the girl gets away just fine. You refuse, I'll kill you, and when I find them, which I will, I'll kill them too."
He stepped away then, looking down at the woman who kept her own eyes on the ground, "his life or the girls, one death or three. Think about it."
And that he left the room again, his friend in tow. Leaving her with her worsening thoughts, alone once again.
-
It was night when David returned. Fran didn't bother to look up at him when he entered.
"This is your last chance," He said to her, standing at the door, "you decided?"
Fran looked up to him slowly then, face pale from blood loss in her hand and a venomous look in her eye.
"Fuck you."
"Alright," David nodded, letting another man enter, "have your fun."
Fran's eyes widened at the wording, watching David leave and a new man she didn't recognise step forward, an evil glint in his eye as he watched her squirm away.
"I'm Trevor, by the way." He introduces himself, "I was a good friend of the man your husband murdered."
He was quick to move to her, taking the knife that was still in her hand and dislodging it, "don't know why they let it stay in - maybe they were hoping you didn't bleed out."
He then was quick to push down on her wound, making her scream as she tried to move against it, the confines on her wrists burning.
"I'm not a violent person, not normally," he said to her then, grabbing her hair and forcing her to look at him, "especially not to women."
He punched her across the face, continuing his speech, "believe in the whole fighting someone your own size thing. But you, my dear, can be the exception."
"How kind," Fran sneered at him, making him raise his eyebrows.
"A fighter, huh?" He laughed, "alright."
He moved around her then, untying her left wrist first and then moving onto her right. The whole time she sat still, confused by his plan of action.
"Then fight," he continued on. He untied her right ankle, making her hide a smile at the fact she was almost free to try and run, and watched as he undid the left one.
As soon as she was free she moved to kick him in the face - but he had been expecting it, grabbing her ankle and pulling her out of the chair and to the ground with one harsh tug.
She screamed at the unexpectedness of it, but wasn't giving up without a fight. She pushed his chest quickly before wobbling to her feet, hands in fists in front of her. The sight made him laugh.
"Come on, then!" He yelled at her, arms out, "fight me!"
She did just as she was told.
She ran at him, managing to get a clean punch to his face - he quickly went to grab her wrist, but she was quicker, using her other hand to grab his hair and yank his head down.
He let her pull his head down, using the distraction to set his leg out. He wrapped it around hers and pulled it closer, the force causing her to fall backwards. But unlike he expected, her grip on his hair didn't falter, pulling him down with her.
His head smashed on the concrete, his anger levels rising as he caged her in with his body.
"You fucking bitch," he screamed at her, grabbing her head and smashing it against the floor, just like she'd done to him. Her hand went up to stop him, to which he grabbed and twisted unnaturally, making her scream. Her other hand went up to stop him, but it only allowed him to hold both of hers tightly between his own.
Her legs were kicking as he pulled the knife out of his pocket, raising it above her, "you can survive a stab to the hand but you really think you can survive one in the heart?"
"Fuck you!" She screamed up at him, trying to push him off with all her might, but he wasn't budging. He was laughing above her now,
"How lady-like!" He seemed proud of his words as he spoke, knife still raised. He moved it closer, fran trying to move as he did so.
She then tried something dangerous, relaxing all her muscles so his grip would falter. The trick worked, her quickly shoving him off as climbing on top. She screamed at the feeling of the knife in his hand skimming against her upper arm, but used it to push harder against him.
She knew in terms of strength he would win every time, but with him and his fists and her with a knife she stood a better chance. Her hands reached for it quickly, wresting him to try and obtain the object as he just laughed.
He lifted his knee to kick her in the gut, the pain making her falter for a moment. He used this to his advantage, pushing her off and readjusting the knife in his hands.
"That was fun," he laughed as he stood, moving to kick her as hard as he could on her back, "but now I wanna just hear you scream."
His knife came down harshly towards Fran's body as she tried to move away, slashing her arm again as she held back a cry. It came down again, and again.
Even when he heard her scream.
-
"Good morning," A voice broke through the fuzziness on Fran's head, her face against the ground in a pool of her own blood.
She only groaned in response, trying to sit up but failing, her cheek cold against the stone under her.
"It's a good morning for me, anyway," David chuckled as he spoke, squatting down next to her figure. He grabbed the hair on the back of her head, lifting it up to meet his eyes, "you look terrible."
He dropped her head again, it hitting the floor harshly as her fingers twitched, trying to gain the strength to just get up off of the floor. Every part of her body was burning, her heartbeat slow, breathing light.
"Wanna know what made my morning so great?" He asked her then, walking around her body slowly, "We found the girl."
That caused the woman's heartbeat to spike, willing herself to not react. She could've got away, she could've been safe.
"Had to shoot her horse, but we got her," David continued, "she's not the most talkative. I'm sure I can get her to talk."
She thought back to David's ultimatum the night before, before forcing herself up and jumping at him. She managed to push him to the floor.
She was quick to climb on top of him, grabbing the collar of his shirt.
"Don't you dare hurt her!" Fran screamed at him, growing angrier when he refused fo react to her demand, "you lay a finger on her and I swear to god-"
His hand went up quickly, grabbing her wrist and using it to shove her off of him, replacing their positions and punching her around the face. Her hand came up to try and grab his, his free hand catching it as he stared down at her.
"If you had told me where she was, this wouldn't be happening," He snapped in her face as she tried to fight against his hold, "she would be fine."
"She is a kid! A child! Let her go!" Fran screamed at him, moving around as much as she could, but his hold was tight.
"You don't give her enough credit," David said with a sadistic smile, "you could've avoided all of this."
She spat up at him then, his features darkening as he let her go, standing up and kicking her as hard as he possibly could in the stomach. She pulled herself into the foetal position at the pain, the bruising in that area not helping.
He regretted telling her that the hirl was there, the mention of her was the only time she'd retaliated since being tied up. He knew he had to break her spirit.
"Your husband, by the way, is dead."
Fran's whole body froze at the information, head slowly looking up at David in disbelief. The serious look on his face, no smirk in sight was enough to tell her he was serious.
"Bled out before we even arrived," David lied, shaking his head, "so you've killed the girl for nothing."
He turned then, leaving without another word, and the second she was alone, Fran let out a large cry, grief filling her body as she hugged herself close.
Joel was dead.
Joel was dead.
"No!" She screamed out grabbing at her head as she tried to rid the thoughts. The questions. Did he die alone? Was Ellie there? Did Ellie see? Did he want Ellie to see? Did he think of her?
She could not believe Joel, the man who had got them through so much, was dead.
She got onto her knees, clawing at her chest to try and get a breath in.
Did me putting the knife in make blood loss faster? Did I do the wrong thing? I should've jumped in quicker, helped him with that man.
He's dead.
Ellie's alone.
Ellie doesn't know she's alive... she things both her and Joel are dead.
"Fuck!" She screamed, standing to her feet despite the dizziness that it caused her. She looked around the room she'd been stuck in, now thankful they hadn't tied her to the chair again. She was looking for anything that could help her get out. Anything that could get her to Ellie.
She couldn't save Joel, she needed to save Ellie.