𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗 𝙾𝚏 𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚝𝚝𝚘 𐂃

- Cristine & Blake -

"Cristine," hearing her name leave his lips made Cristine whip her head up so quickly it hurt. She sucked in a breath and looked straight into the glassy blue eyes of Ben, his face ghostly pale and more wan to the point of appearing almost like a ghost, with his dirty dark hair on top of his head.

"That's your name right?"

Evading his gaze, Cristine looked down and packed her supplies again. Apparently, ignoring him didn't deter Ben as he noticed activity in the small camp. They were packing and loading all their stuff, which meant they'd either take him or end his life right here, right now. "Can you please tell me what's going to happen to me?" Stabs of pain in his ribs made Ben suck in a painful breath in short sequences. "You don't have to do any of this... please."

"If you don't want a repeat of yesterday then shut up. Focus on your recovery. I don't make the calls."

"But you don't agree with them killing me right? I want to live." Ben pulled his nose and chewed aggressively on his lips. "I have a family too, just like you do. And I get why you're doing this, I would too if I were in your situation, but I'm a cripple. I can't even properly piss by myself."

"Then tell us what we want to know."

A cynical chuckle left his mouth, as if he'd heard the worst joke in history. "Give up my only leverage that keeps me alive... don't think so." He saw the contortion on her face and argued. "You can't blame me for that."

"No, but you need to give me something... a clue or I can't help you Ben." It was her turn to tilt her head and pull up her shoulder. "You can't blame for that."

"They're not even looking for me with the radio silenc-"

"You have a lot to say for someone who has been grinding his teeth while getting his ass beat." The taunting baritone voice, came from Willy, his unimpressed stare alternating between the two outcasts. They lingered on Cristine the most his mouth curling down into what resembled a sneer, before he unexpectedly hit Ben in the side with the end of his riffle. "You feel like talking now? Go right ahead."

Ben's teeth ground together, refusing to let a yell out as Willy hit him again, "come on hot shot, speak up. I can't hear you!"

"Willy," Cristine's voice was raw and yet somehow tense. "That's enough."

"Shut up, I don't take orders from you!" Willy scoffed and ignored Cristine. He half expected the woman to charge up to him. So when a firm hand tugged his arm back, Willy was ready for it, only to be surprised to see Blake. "What the hell?"

"You keep that up and he'll end up dead," Blake squeezed his hand tighter and Willy jerked his arm aside with a rough swipe. "We need him alive for interrogation."

Willy looked up and down at Blake and chuckled as if he'd seen and heard something hilarious. "Look at you... defending a punk and half-caste. None of this is our way," Willy looked passed Blake at said woman who showed him nothing but cool apathy. Unruffled by his claims even as he spit on the soil, "next thing you know we'll welcome them in our gates and let them run the place." He glared back at Blake and stepped forward, almost making their noses touch.

"You have any problems with this decision, you take it up with Troy," Blake didn't back down either. His shoulders were squared, chin raised and jaw set while never breaking the challenging eye-contact with Willy. "It's done man. You get right with it."

"None of this is right. It's bullshit and you know it. Ya'll lost your balls because of some bitch that's only good to warm a bed-" before Willy could even finish that sentence, the feel of a bone crushing fist hammer into his face. Blake was never one that came looking for a fight. Hell, after Mike, he was one of the softest ones in the group that eagerly wanted to prove himself. When Willy realized his body lurched backwards from the force of the blow, his face contorted and next thing he and Blake were grappling on the ground like writhing snakes.