[b]Hank[/b]

	There was no going back, there was no reversing, no traveling back in time, it was already too late to act. A moment of hesitation could ruin the life of an individual and everyone he cared about. The past would always be poignant, despair and sorrow crawling back into the minds of its victims. Memories hurt, a painful ache in the mind that was difficult to forget and too easy to remember. In this new world, everyone had or would own such memories - haunting recollections that either broke apart the will to live, or reinforced it. It was a living nightmare, and there seemed no way of waking from it. So as the sun rays struck at the vehicle, wheels spun at thirty five miles an hour, the chosen two recalled those memories of despair as they traveled onward. The wind blew through the hair of both survivors, bright light burning the outer layer of their skin. The man wore a tank top, his arms revealed and now red from the mass amount of heat that day. His expression was blank, his eyes seemingly lost in thought. He stared at the ground - in this case, the bed of a truck - and remained motionless, surrounded by his new captors. He spoke nothing, remained silent just like the environment around him. His fist were clenched, veins popping at his wrist and moving up his forearms every time he dug his fingers deeper into his palm. He had promised it wouldn't happen again, but it did.....

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[b]Previous Day[/b]

	A second gunshot echoed through the woods surrounding them, no hesitation from the shooter. Instead, he put on a smile of satisfaction as he bust a bullet through the head of his slave. Immediately, the slave tumbled to the ground, his body left dead with no opportunity to return as a soulless corpse. Hank's entire body went numb, his eyes preaching open alongside his mouth. A strain of saliva already connected from his bottom lip to his front teeth as his breath became colder. The redness in his eyes deciphered his emotions, his look defining the desperation and pain he was enduring. The man fell to his knees and forcefully crashed his own forehead into the hard road. He yelled desperately, eyelids clenching together as he let it all out. He couldn't even scream correctly as his chest became so full of hate and guilt. Tears were forced through the thin gaps in his eyes, leaving drops on the ground beneath him. He beat his forehead again and again, trying to stop the killing and end the suffering. 

	"[i]Get him up![/i]" Treis called out to his minions, the soldiers picking Hank off the ground by force. Hank couldn't even feel his legs anymore and was carried like rag doll. "[i]See Jon, this happens when people like you and Tremblay don't follow protocol. We had a deal, but y'all broke it, so here are the consequences. Nonetheless, we expect to receive our share for these two. Seek to it[/i]" Richard Treis finished, signaling his members to give the other group the remaining slaves. 

	As he was carried by the shoulders, Hank had come to a halt on the grieving. Now he just felt weak and drained from that eruption of emotions. His body reestablished itself, giving him the ability to walk once more. Slowly as he was being passed to the soldiers of said other group, he started taking steps towards their vehicles. It was as though he had given up, or was it just an escape? Regardless, he continued to stare at the bodies behind him. The muscles in his neck were put in stress as they twisted right for Hank to look. Seth was gone. Aaliyah was gone. And the mourning wife of his best friend was killed before his eyes as well. All three were shot directly in the back of the head with no remorse. The sight of their blood gushing through the front of their skull could not be described in words. Like most of the horrors on this earth, words have become mere understatements and could not describe the reality of any situation. Some may say this place was hell, but one could survive in hell. As of now, it was he and Heather who were being traded to Tremblay - not Seth and Aaliyah who were the initial quarry. Last thing Hank heard from Richard was his desire to take Aaliyah and Seth's bodies back to hang among the ruined. 

	After being loaded onto the new trucks, Hank said his final goodies to his friends. He murmured under his own breath in apologies and then resumed his silence, the silence of a lost man who's world had seemingly become armageddon. It was now survival of the fittest. Man vs man, man vs nature, man vs society, and most important, man vs self.