The sled came to a halt. Listening to the world around her Ashley pretended to be asleep. It was easier that way and right now she could use the free ride. Moving a little, as if twitching in her sleep, she could feel the tug on the tight skin of her shoulder. How long has it been since the bite? Her head had been fogged and she couldn't place the timing of anything that happened in between.

What she did remember was waking up on the ground with Laurence asleep above her. She was cold so she’d climbed into the back of a car. Then some yelling, and someone had grabbed her. She swore, threw a punch that didn’t do much other than land herself on the ground.

Then, vomiting. Wincing a little at the memory, the pang in her gut returned and reminded her she was empty. It hurt, more than a regular hunger ache, so it must have been at least a day. More than one?

Reid stood over her constantly. He’d check her wounds, tuck in the blanket. From the way he treated her, and from what she heard, Ashley was the most important thing to them since the collapse. “At all costs she lives,” Laurence had said. She remembered that. Some of the arguments too, but just bits and pieces. And always, Reid stood over her.

But not now. He'd gotten up and with strained ears, she heard him talking with some of the others.

Laurence’s speech spelled their route: the DVP. The parkway led into the goddamn city, one of the last places she wanted to be.

“This is all fucked,” Laurence muttered to himself from nearby. He stood alone while his fingers massaged the bridge of his nose. Behind him she saw trees, overgrown brush swallowing the guardrail next to piles upon piles of cars. Another quick glance up and she could see an overpass. There wasn't a sign and closing her eyes she tried to remember when this place had been a real parkway. When she'd driven down it last and spied the bridge above. But no luck.

Moving a little, her shoulder tugged with tight pain. The bite, the wendigo… the memories streamed back. With returned focus, so came clarity.

The bite is healing.

The thought should have been comforting but it wasn't.

She turned her head to Laurence. His arms crossed over his chest while he looked back at the rest of the crowd a few dozen paces away.

“Some water.” Her words were a whisper but the full-grown man nearly jumped a foot in the air.

“Jesus Christ…”

“No, but I could use a drink.” She stared at him unshaken.

With each passing second, her senses were waking. _The first twenty-four hours are always the worst. _

When Laurence didn’t answer her she tried to move but met the resistance of the straps across her chest. The blanket was a nice touch, kept the chill at bay. “I'm not exactly in a position to get it myself.” Each word was easier to say, each sentence flowed smoother, despite the hoarse sound of her cracked and dry throat.

Laurence didn't move. He watched her with skepticism and shock, but it changed rather quickly. A cocktail of fear and rage bubbled in his eyes. Ashley knew the look. She'd seen it before and would see it again.

“I said-”

“I heard you.” His eyes finally left her to glance back to the crowd. Pushing himself from the car she watched until he was out of view.

Good boy. Go fetch Reid. Leaning back with a small thud she turned her head to the side, tilting the sled a little.

Behind her, vines covered an old merging sign and beyond the overpass stood a large building. She didn’t recognize either. On the ground near her was her backpack, one of theirs, and another bag stuffed with supplies. The seat belts had been strapped over her chest to keep her to the sled but she was no longer handcuffed behind her back. She couldn’t see how many, but it felt like three straps; one over her chest, her hips, and legs. Her hands were pinned to her sides, but not tightly. If I can get something to cut the belts. She could move a little, her body thin from the sick and fit from years on the run. Of course, her strength had dwindled but like hell was she going to let that stop her.

Something sharp, the belts are just fabric. Feeling around on the ground her hands brushed over metal debris, sticks, and leaves. Nothing felt sharp enough but with enough time she might have better luck. Grabbing a piece of metal she started to rub the least dull side against the belt over her hips.

While busying herself she looked up in the sky. Noon she guessed by the height of the sun. A plan formed in her mind. If the days are shorter, and we’re near the top of the DVP… maybe I can get to an office building or one of the apartments before dark?

“...asked for water. I thought you should take a look at her, see if she can walk.” Laurence’s voice drew nearer.

Ashley lifted her head enough to see him and Reid jogging towards her. Quickly, she tucked the metal under her thigh, hidden beneath the blanket.

“How does she look?” Reid sounded concerned as he approached, immediately dropping to one knee.

“Like sunshine.” She smirked up at him with a feigned tired smile. The medic looked over her without meeting her eyes and Laurence peered curiously at her shoulder.

Bending over to one of the bags Laurence handed Reid a half-empty bottle of murky water. He brought it to Ashley's lips and she took an eager sip.

“How’s that guy? Can he walk?” Laurence asked.

“Wound’s not that bad. It’s wrapped up but he’s going to need stitches and I can’t do it in ten minutes. If I’d known when we were on the 401-”

“And if my grandmother had wheel’s she’d be a bike.”

Reid sighed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means answer my fucking question: will he keep pace?”

The two exchanged a look Ashley could only guess was accustomed hate.

“Not without help.”

She knew the fear that coursed through them. It tore people apart, made them doubt. When one falls back do you keep going or try to save them? It wasn't a decision that made anyone good or evil, or at least that's what she'd come to believe. Some people would be throwing their lives away if they tried. Like the river. Get involved, make the wrong choice, and it all ends in tears. Being scared of dying, of wendigos, choosing to save themselves - she didn't blame them. It wasn’t their fault. An impossible choice forced on so many.

“You volunteered to help him so you make the call.” Laurence passed the buck pretty fast.

Reid’s lips tightened and he put down the water bottle. “My call?” He stood quickly and his voice wasn’t exactly quiet. “You were the one who wanted them along and now you're making me decide who dies?” Reid stepped closer to Laurence, hands balled at his sides. From where she lay, she couldn't see their faces but their postures tensed and both men tried to assert useless dominance over the other.

“No fucking way, Laurence. I'm not calling this. You couldn't make the hard decision before but that doesn't give you the right to pass it off on me. I looked at his wounds and he’s not fucking crippled.”

The distraction was the perfect time for her to continue her work. Ashley pressed the metal to fabric, rocking it back and forth.

“I call the shots but I'm not a fucking doctor,” Laurence practically growled. “If he can't make it, you tell him. Discussion over.”

“Like hell it is. This is all on you.”

Her little piece of metal snapped its way through the belt material quickly. It was almost all the way through the first one when Laurence hit Reid.

The medic hit the ground next to her, knocking over the water. He wasn't a skinny man, rather well-toned when Ashley last looked, but he didn't have the bulk Laurence did. Reid spat blood from his lip and glared back at the bigger man. The cool severity of Reid expressions aged him but now, all rage and fury, he was different.

“I'd stay down,” Ashley whispered, but it seemed to set him off. On his feet in seconds, Reid stormed right back to Laurence.

“Hey!” Shannon's called and at least three more sets of feet jogged towards the scuffle.

“What's going on?” an unfamiliar voice with a slight accent chimed in. Notes of the Caribbean lingered in her words.

Tish wasn’t far behind her. “Jesus, you guys have got to stop this shit. We're almost home.”

“Stay out of this,” Reid snapped.

“Hey man, we're all wound tight. Calm the fuck down.” Shannon was the strange voice of reason.

Laurence spat next to Ashley’s head. “We're done. Unless you want to dance, boy?”

Ashley felt the wince on her lips before the medic reacted. She couldn’t have concocted a better distraction if she tried.

“Boy? Goddamnit, you’re a fucking asshole, you know that? But you don't have the balls-”

“This is not the fucking time to fight,” Tish hissed. “Do it when we’re back if it’s that goddamn important.”

“Fuckin' hell, she's right.” Shannon pushed Reid away from Laurence. “Dude, clean that up. Now. You can't be bleedin' around here.”

Their voices grew and Ashley stayed quiet. The second strap snapped and, leaving her left arm completely free. Just another minute or two. She started on the strap over her chest.

“If this is about Eamon, he's ready to go. We will help him on our own and we’ll keep up. Just please, stop fighting. We can’t afford this sort of violence now.” The woman spoke with a calming voice and when neither man got knocked to the ground, Ashley guessed her caution worked.

“Then we leave now,” Laurence instructed and he stomped away.

Ashley nearly sawed through another restraint when Reid came back and dropped his bag on top of her and the blanket. He packed up his things with a huff and nibbled at his fattening lip.

“You seem to have a knack for that.” Ashley smirked. “Getting hit. I’m guessing you’re the type not too keen on dodging bullets either.”

“You're making this a hell of a lot easier.” Not once did his eyes meet hers. “Keep being a bitch and see how hard people fight when they come for you.”

They.

Ashley swallowed hard. The beat of her heart quickened and her throat grew tight.

I won’t go back. I’ll die before I go back.

For a moment Reid frowned at her or her silence, but she turned away to stare at the sky and summon some kind of calm.

Not noon. Closer to 2. Her hand sawed back and forth beneath the blanket in small movements.