Trapped

"Lookie what we got here." A harsh voice spoke, their words slightly slurred and drawn out. "Ain't that a pretty sight?"

"She's al'right." Another voice mumbled, sounding less interested. "Seen better."

"When?" The first man scoffed, leaning forward and causing more dirt to cascade below. "'Fore the end of the world, maybe."

"Doesn't matter anyway." The other man stated brusquely. "He always gets first pick anyway."

Frowning, you hesitantly glance upwards, shielding your eyes from the harsh rays of sun with your free hand. You can see two faces looking down at you, both equally grimy and unappealing to look at. You presume the man on the right to be the first speaker, something about his slightly round face seeming to match the voice. A reddish, bulbous nose protrudes from his otherwise dirt stained face. Two small, beady black eyes peer down at you greedily, making you feel instantly uncomfortable. The other man in comparison is considerably gaunt and narrow. High cheekbones stick out of the sides of his face, making it appear slightly misshapen and malnourished. A sharp, skinny nose sticks out between his disinterested and listless pale gaze.

"He doesn't have to hear about this one." The slightly pudgy man gave a sideways glance towards his companion, as if seeking his approval.

You feel your breath catch in fear as the man's dark gaze returns to your form. You'd rather be dead than end up in whatever situation he intends, though you have a feeling it will ultimately end with that very wish. Shirking further back against the wall of the pit you feel much like an animal cornered by its prey. There's nowhere to run and no chance of escape. Fighting is the only option, however, you know that will only get you so far. It's been days since a proper meal and rest and even from this vantage point you can tell the men will easily overpower you.

"If he does end up finding out about this." The thin man rolled his eyes before stepping away. "I was never here."

"Of course." The other man smiled wickedly, licking his thick lips in anticipation. "I work better alone anyway."

"If you come down here I'll-" You begin to speak before a shout in the distance cuts you off.

"Davis! What did you find?"

You see the man's eyes narrow in annoyance before his figure retreats. You hold your breath as the sound of someone else approaching is heard. There is no way to tell if this person would be of aid or of further hindrance.

"'S nothin' really." You hear the man try bullshitting, his voice wavering slightly in betrayal. "Just some old scrawny flit of a thing, not worth no labor or nothin'."

"I'll be the judge of that." The other voice commands harshly and the sound of footsteps draws near.

Swallowing nervously, you look up at the opening to see a new face. The man is quite a bit older than the other two or at least considerably more weather beaten. However, that's not uncommon as of late given the lack of basic necessities such as shelter to more coveted necessities such as SPF or other protections from the harsh sun. Pale blue, almost metallic eyes survey you sharply, seeming to assess every inch of your being. His square jaw twitches as he frowns slightly before stepping away.

"Not worth anything?" He questions, his voice showing no hint of amusement. "Perhaps you should take another look because it looks to me as if that is the youngest female we've caught since moving out here."

"Is she now?" Davis exhaled nervously, his voice further betraying his guilt. "My eyes ain't what they used to be, coulda sworn she had gray hair."

"Is that so?" The older man replied, suddenly sounding understanding and compassionate. "I had no idea your sight was failing."

"That's the thing about getting older, I'm sure you know all 'bout that though."

"Not quite." You hear the man retort, the slight edge returning to his voice. "However, I shall be informing your patrol leader of your... handicap. After all, we need only the fittest, most capable of people in our ranks."

"W-what?" The insipid man stammered, the pitch of his tone raising in fear. "You can't do that, they'll retire me!"

"Yes, what a shame that will be." The hint of sarcasm isn't lost as the sound of fingers snapping is heard.

More footsteps approach and you hear the horrible screams of the beady eyed man as he dragged away. A moment later a rope is thrown down, bringing more dirt and sediment down with it. Eyeing it trepidatiously, you instead take a step away.

"Come now." You hear the man call down to you in a sharp tone. "We haven't got all day and I assure you this is the _least _painful way to retrieve you."

You hear more shuffling before several other men approach, holding more rope and weapons in their hands. Their harsh gazes and expressions daring you to allow them the opportunity to come get you themselves. Inhaling shakily, you reach a trembling hand out for the rope. You hadn't had much hope against two men, you certainly didn't have any against six. It takes a few moments to get your footing as the walls of dirt crumble with each step. The rope burns the palms of your hands as you slowly make your way up. Clumps of dirt sliding down the walls around you, getting in your hair, eyes, and mouth. Once you've made it about three quarters of the way a strong hand reaches down and pulls you up. Gasping and panting, you feel damp grass against your cheek as you lay against the ground. Your back rises and falls with each shallow breath as you attempt to compose yourself. A pair of scuffed, dirty boots step in front of you before you feel yourself lifted up again. The man showed no compassion when his large hand roughly wrapped around your arm and painfully tugged you to your feet.

"How old are you, girl?" The older man questions you curtly, not seeming to care that you appear frightened and fatigued.

Staring up at him with wide eyes you find your throat dry and your tongue paralyzed. Even if you wanted to answer him you suddenly find yourself unable. Though beyond the initial fear you still feel a small kindling of anger and hatred towards the man and his party. Regardless of the man inadvertently saving you from his accomplices' evil desires, he still appears to be in the same group that housed such a loathsome creature. As far as you're concerned he is just as treacherous and untrusting as the others. You feel his cold gaze rake across your form once more before he turns and gestures to one of his men. A moment later, he takes a small canteen from his companion before handing it to you. Eyeing the man warily, you sniff the contents before taking a drink. Fresh water is always hard to come by, especially in the summer. You can't help noting this doesn't taste like any water collected in a rain barrel or from a stream. It has a distinct, mineral taste to it, meaning it must be from a spring or perhaps a well. If the party has ready access to a plentiful source of water it could only mean they were part of a settlement. Only groups that large were able to maintain access to such a resource for extended periods of time. This small of a faction on their own would be unable to fend off intruders for very long before being overtaken.

"Now then." The man interrupts your thoughts as he reaches out to reclaim the flask. "Your age."

Mumbling the answer in response, you see the man's eyes widen at the answer. It's true you are relatively young for being out here on your own, however, you consider yourself to be far into adulthood at this point. The man nods to his companions who quickly flank you, leaving no room for retreat. Your brow furrows in confusion and slight fear as you gaze back at the man before you. There's no compassion in his pale eyes as he motions for the men to take hold of you. There's no use fighting back as the strong, capable men forcefully escort you through the forest. As you progress it's only made more evident that you are heading towards one of the several, large makeshift settlements. It's true that there is safety in numbers, however, that is often only held true for the men of the groups. Meaning it quite common to see the men in the settlements outnumber the women by a considerable amount. The majority of the females that inhabited these camps were either there out of or because they considered it their only chance of survival.

Eventually, you reach the outskirts of the camp, or what once was a small town. Its homes and buildings have been recoverted into domiciles and strategic defenses. You can feel all eyes turn towards you as you make your way down the narrow main road. As expected, the majority of people you see are men, their lecherous, leering gazes following your every move. The few women you notice are considerably older in appearance and cast dark, unwelcoming looks as you pass by. While you don't think you're anything out of the ordinary you suppose you can see the appeal. Even before the beginning of the world's end the sun never bothered you all that much. Your skin's ability to soak up its rays and tan without burning have left you with a healthy looking glow. In addition, traveling by night and by the shade of the forest and woods have also left you looking less weather beaten than most. Your naturally thick hair has retained most of its volume and shine, giving you a further appearance of health. Beneath the layers of dirt, mud, and debris you would appear quite less beaten and drained as those around you. Still, you didn't envy them as the words the skinny man had spoken earlier still remain in your mind. "_He always gets first pick." _You were certain he had been speaking of the settlement's leader, who you assumed to be the older man.

He certainly possesses the imposing nature and command of a leader. Regardless, he's far from your type, though you're not entirely certain what your type is anymore. The aftermath of the war has ruined most men for you as half had shown themselves to be cowards and the other half to be conniving, self-satisfying, brutes. Having experienced your fair share of settlements when you first started roaming, you have a general idea how the hierarchy works. The leader typically had the first choice of all 'loot' including that of sentient nature. Should they decline, or be in a generous mood, the valuables will be offered to the next in command. They typically were even more possessive of whatever treasures they were able to claim. However, the worst fate was when even they declined on the spoils. The rest of the camp would then be able to lay claim on what remained, typically brawling it out for the possessions, whether they be food, items, or even people. You shudder at the thought, never having stayed in any camp long enough to go through such an ordeal. Now it seems as though you'll have little choice having been brought here by rather than choice.

"Should we have her cleaned?" You hear one of the flanking men speak to the leader.

He shakes his head in disagreement before dismissing the men. Moving to stand before you, his large hand slips around your arm again as you're escorted towards a building that appeared to have been a bank at some point. The faded, crumbling lettering now illegible and faded by the scorching sun. You presume this is where the man has taken up residence, it seems a smart choice given its already reinforced structure. You feel your heart beating rapidly as the man pushes you up the concrete steps leading to the building. You want to run again but know it's hopeless, even if the man didn't catch someone else would and you're not inclined to find out how quickly they would turn you back in or not. Inhaling deeply, you brace yourself as the large door is pulled open from inside and you're into the large lobby.