Chapter 9 – For Who You Love.
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Note from the author.
The biggest thank you to my wonderful editor, CaptainsSiren. All one could ask for in an editor and more.
Reader Warning.
Please be aware that this chapter deals with sexual non-consent. Please check the story tags before reading if you are not sure if you are ok with the subject matter.
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The next thing John knew was a piercing pain in the back of his head, then darkness.
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John woke to water being dropped over him. He tried to open his eyes through the blinding pain that was now his mind. He guessed that someone had beaten something into the back of his head, forcing him to black out. He struggled with the effort of trying to open his eyes, but finally managed to force them open far enough to take in his surroundings.
He was inside a room he recognised; it was the kitchen in Tom's house. The kitchen was built of stone so it was much colder than the heat of the day outside. A slight shiver ran through him as the cool air combined with the water running down his body to chill his skin. John went to wipe the water from his face and realized that he was sitting tied to a chair. He struggled to move his arms and legs, but was met with complete resistance, and a cold laugh from the other side of the room.
John forced his neck muscles to bring his aching head up so he could see what was going on. A big man stepped forward carrying a rifle. John also saw another man sitting at the kitchen table digging into food from John's backpack.
"Well g'day mate, welcome back. What's your name?" The man with the rifle asked him.
John struggled to get an answer out through the pain. The man pulled the barrel of the rifle under his chin and forced his head upwards so that he was looking straight into his eyes.
"I asked you a question fella, and I expect quick answers." He threatened.
"Jo... John." He spluttered out as fast as he could.
"Now, that's better John. I'll forgive you that slight delay as you're coming to, but don't make me ask twice from here on, you get me?"
John nodded as best he could with the rifle jammed under his chin and replied, "Yes".
"Good!" The man said loudly, as he headed back over to his partner, grabbing a can off the table and shovelling up a spoonful of cold baked beans. "Now, what do we need to know?"
"My name's Steve, and that there is Tony." He continued when his mouth was full.
Tony looked over and waved 'hello' without stopping eating; the two men looked sunburnt and lean from lack of food. John's mind raced with what these men could possibly want from him. Food? Shelter? Would they make him take them back to his house? He would never give away the location of their home; the protection of Anny and Skye was the most important thing in the world to him now.
"So what's your story, friend?" Steve asked, pausing on the word 'friend' to make it sound sinister. He picked up the can he was eating from and sat down on a chair close to John.
John tried to quickly get his story straight in his mind, but the pain was making it too hard to concentrate. He tried to construct a lie as he went.
"My... my friend Tom and I escaped from Newcastle down south, and have been roaming around trying to find somewhere safe to stay. We found a woman, Merry, in John's River and let her come with us. Two days ago when we got here we were overrun by Walkers..." John said, his voice trailing off as his mind started wandering back to that day.
Steve stood up and punched him hard across the face, causing John's head to fly to the side; and for his mind to snap back into the present as his mouth filled with the bitter taste of blood. He spat it out with several coughs.
"Maybe you didn't understand me. You might have heard me ask you to make up a bullshit story and feed it to me." Steve yelled as he hovered above him.
"We've checked the dead people outside, and your friend 'Tom', looks a shit-load like the person in the pictures around this house. So I'm guessing that you guys weren't running north, and that this is his house." Steve continued.
John tried to focus again, and cursed himself for being so stupid. The lie he made up didn't make any sense in the surroundings they were in, and Steve was smart enough to pick up on it straight away. He continued to spit out blood as his mind raced for the best course to take.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Was all he could muster to try to buy himself more time.
"Well I'm sorry too friend, because that's strike two. One more and I will be ending your shit-hole of an existence right here and now." Steve continued yelling; eventually returning to his chair and his can of beans.
"Now, please, tell us what you three were up to here. You weren't running; you were scavenging building supplies together. You obviously weren't holed up in this place, so do you have a safe house around here somewhere close?" he continued calmly as he took another spoonful of food.
John had no way out. He wouldn't give away the location of their home; he had to keep Anny and Skye safe no matter what.
"Well mate," John stated, "I believe that you can go fuck yourself."
Steve and Tony burst out laughing, spitting the contents of their mouths out onto the floor. They laughed and laughed at John's boldness, even John couldn't keep himself from having a little chuckle. The situation was so serious, and his bold statement to his attackers could have just gotten him killed. When Steve had finished wiping the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand, he stood up and approached John.
Steve leant forward and whispered, loud enough that Tony could still hear, "Well John, since you made us both laugh for the first time in fuck knows how long I won't be killing you at this second for that remark."