Theme Song: - "I will Not Bow" Breaking Benjamin

I narrowed my gaze and a look of pure contempt curled across my lip at the thought of the boy dying.

"Stanley!" I yelled out, my voice unlike my usual one. It was hoarse laced with pure hatred. I walked with great strides across the concrete towards the group, my blood dripping along on the ground.

Stanley saw me and faltered his grip on the boy. I stalked up behind the group of strangers who were now turning to look at me with curious and guarded eyes. Before Stanley could even react I had one of my sickles unsheathed and flying at his head.

It took all the strength I had left to throw it and I cried out as the wound felt the effects as well. The moment the blade connected with his head he dropped to the ground like a raggedy Anne doll. The boy stumbled away quickly towards the man with the revolver.

"Bullseye.." I breathed out with a small smirk. The other two men had stupidly not chosen to draw their weapons during the tense exchange and were now left scrambling to get theirs out.

One of them looked to me with startled eyes and hollered, as if an afterthought, "It's her!" The stranger with the crossbow wasted no time in unloading an arrow in his head after he yelled out and the other one was efficiently cut down by the woman with the swords.

Wasting no time, I clumsily made my way to Stanley and pulled the sickle from his head, grimacing at the slick noise it made while pulling from brain matter.

I had stopped after I sheathed my weapons and felt everyone's eyes upon my back. I stumbled around to face them as my duffel dropped to the ground. I watched as the man with the crossbow never waivered in his aim at me.

His eyes flitted down to the blood and back to me. He had finally lower his cross bow ever so slightly at the sight of blood. My breathing was growing more labored and I looked down to my wound with widened eyes. Holy shit..it was worse. My body started to feel lighter as if I was floating to the clouds.

"Who are you and who were these men?" The scruffier gentleman bit out sternly as the boy stood beside him, eyeing me with curiosity and fear. I went to speak, but nothing came out.

Instead, the man with the crossbow nodded towards the blood and muttered, "Rick, look." I watched the other man, who was named Rick, look down to the blood at my feet.

I probably looked at them all helplessly, my body swaying from side to side. The wound had been hidden by the leather jacket, but the blood was a dead giveaway. As they lowered their weapons and saw I was injured, I felt the smallest sigh of relief escape.

In a matter of seconds my knees buckled, but the woman had already crossed the distance, as did the scruffy man with the boy. The woman had caught me swiftly and lowered me to the ground gently.

I felt so far away from my body, but still couldn't find my voice to speak. I wanted to tell them that they needed to get away from here and that Daniel would soon come looking for his men.

And when he found three of them dead, well, I didn't even want to think that far.

I allowed the woman to pull my jacket back and lift my tank top to reveal the knife wound.

"M'not bit.." I finally groaned out as the pain over took my senses. It felt like a searing hot iron to my midsection and every breath I took hurt worse than the last.

"Rick, she's been stabbed. It's not a bite." The woman said with a relieved tone. The man, whom they kept calling Rick, now bent down to me. He gently held the back of my head as it started to loll to the side.

It was then another voice I recognized bit out, "Ain't got time for this, Rick. Whoever that was could be bringin' more. C'mon! We need to get gone!"

I could make out the voice coming from someone that was pacing back and forth and I had a feeling it was the other stranger with the crossbow. A few seconds later a motorcycle engine started. Their voices started to fade and I could only hear bits and pieces now.

"….Saved Carl's life…can't just leave her.." The woman's voice came and went.

"Ya' think she's even gonna' make it back?" The rough, redneck like voice asked softly and I felt the panic rise as I questioned my own mortality. No, I'm not going to die today.

There was a collective silence.

Someone carried me now with a fast gait to their stride and the hands felt strong, such as a man's.

"Carl, go around and get the van started. Now!" Rick said sternly with an authoritative tone. They laid me gently across seats in the back and almost immediately another form crawled in with me and pulled my head into their lap. The woman!

I could smell her light coconut scent mixed with something that smelled of iron. My blood.

"C'mon, stay with us now." The woman muttered as the vehicle was already flying down the highway and a motorcycle purred off in the distance. The woman placed her hands across my wound and put immense pressure on it, despite my cries of protest

The last thing I saw before the black spots consumed my vision was the woman's dark eyes staring at her. They were mother's eyes. Compassionate, yet fiercely protective.

I felt a small pang of emotion for my own mother who I lost when I was younger. I finally relented to the pain, and allowed the darkness to swallow me up and carry me along whatever path it had in store for me.