Good Night, Vegas Lights

Chapter 7

  The slavers were unforgiving. Every time Vincent was forced to stop by pain, they'd only give him a few seconds of rest. If even that.
  "Where are we going?"
  "South East. That's all you need to know."
His hands had been tied since they began walking and he could feel the rough rope rubbing away at his wrists. The sun was beginning to set. He had only been gone from Freeside for one day. Within one day he had given his life up. Already the image of Sam's face was disappearing from his mind. The soft blonde hair that often tumbled down her shoulders... Vincent didn't love Sam like many people had thought. He cared for her, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to love ever since he lost Elizabeth. The photo was still in his pocket, thank God, because the slavers hadn't yet searched him. A head ache began to creep into the back of his skull. Vincent knew good and well it was withdrawl. He often regreted getting himself addicted to Jet, but at least it wasn't as bad as Psycho. When the Sun's light had well disappeared from the Mojave and exhaustion had once again clawed at Vincent's mind, the slavers just then decided to tell him that they hadn't planned on stopping until they reached their destination. This made whatever hope was left fly out the window. Vince was dying for a drink, but he didn't dare ask. He instead continued walking the best he could.

  Two grueling days had passed. Days of pure walking. All without even once being offered food or water. Finally, the slavers' pace slowed.
  "We're almost there"
One of them muttered. Vince could see smoke rising over the horizon. They were nearing a camp. From the looks of it, he ended up in a place just over the Nevada border to the South East. It was large and surrounded by mountains. The prospect of escape seemed foolish, and that was just fine by him. The slaver that seemed to have been in charge was now arguing with another man.
  "We killed her, don't worry"
A cowardly lie.
  "And you brought that as a replacement?"
This must be their boss...
  "That woman was to much trouble for her own good"
The boss gave Vincent a once over and seemed rather dissatisfied. Vince couldn't quite figure out why, since it was their fault his leg was fucked.
  "Fine. Put him with the others to help clear out that wreckage to see how he does."
They lead him away to a well guarded area. Processing, Vincent had guessed. One of his guides stopped him.
  "You got any weapons?"
  "If I did, I wouldn't be here..."
The slaver's response was to knee Vincent in the gut. The impact made him lose his breath for a moment. They patted him down, and eventually found the photo in his chest pocket. One of them held it to the sunlight.
  "Now now, who are these people?"
  "Give that back!"
Vince attempted to jerk forward, but he was stopped by the butt of a rifle.
  "Your family maybe? This your wife, your kids?"
He remained silent.
  "She's awfully pretty. What was her name?"
Vince still found no words to say.
  "You must not remember then. Guess that means you won't need this anymore."
Before he could even blink, the slaver had thrown the photo into a barrel fire. Unfathomable rage grew inside Vincent as he watched what was left of his family turn to ash. He spun around just in time to let his balled up fists connect with the slaver's jaw. That was a bad idea. A rifle to the back of the head sent Vincent into darkness.