Alone and, regrettably, lost in the swamp, Husky Harris gave up. He sat on a fallen cyprus tree and braced his head in his hands. The PBR, the lack of sleep the last few weeks, and the awful mood he'd harbored for days now cumulating into this awful sea-sick feeling. Mentally he kicked himself for wandering into this swamp anyway. So what if there was a light in the woods? In hindsight, what business was it of his anyway? He should be back at the hotel right now, listening to McGillicutty snore and trying to sleep off his own hangover so that he could resume his part as the Nexus's literal whipping boy tomorrow. He reached for his phone, but the battery had died hours ago. "I just wanna go home." He grumbled, hurling a loose rock against the bark of a nearby tree. "Fuck!"

An ominous chuckle nearby silenced his temper tantrum. Reaching for the knife in his boot, Husky jumped up quickly and watched the area around him for the source of the sound. "Don't you know boy? You are home!" Large hands grasp Husky's arms, dragging him backwards off of his feet and into a nearby cluster of underbrush.

.

Mike McGillicutty opened one eye warily, glancing towards the bed across from him. "Husky?" He breathed, unwilling to lean up and look the other man in the face. But when silence answered him, he forced himself to raise his head. "Husky you shithead, are you asleep? Hey fat ass!" He taunted the darkness, sure that would get a rise out of Husky.

When there was no answer, Mike swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head swimming. "Husky you fuck." He mumbled, taking wary steps across the carpet. But it startled him to find his friend's bed empty, the sheets still properly made. Husky hadn't made it back yet? Ah hell. Who knows. Maybe the bastard got lucky. Every dog has his day, right?

Husky awoke in darkness, his head throbbing. Reaching up he could feel warm blood on his scalp, the large man that ambushed him had hit him with a heavy object. He squinted in the darkness around him, trying to find anything to focus on. There were no shadows,no outlines of furniture. Just complete, oppressive darkness and the humidity of the summer night. Before he could really begin to panic, a sliver of yellow light cracked the darkness briefly before the wooden door was swung open, banging off the wall next to it. The large shadow of a man filled the doorframe, letting the weak light lighten up the dark interior of the barren room. Then the figure advanced, closing the door behind him and plunging them back into darkness, and Husky readied himself for a fight. He reached for his trusty pocket knife but to no avail, he'd been disarmed. The large man reached for him and he fought back as best he could, swinging blindly in the dark.

Mike paced their hotel room, trying in vain to call Husky's cell. When he couldn't het an answer he went to the next room, banging on the door and waking up a groggy' but sober, Heath Slater. "Husky is missing. We gotta go find him, man." Heath made a face and turned to glance at his alarm clock.

"It's four in the morning Mike! I'm not leaving this hotel room."

"But what if something happened to him?" Heath sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Some girl probably got drunk enough to take him home. Just go back to bed man. He'll probably be back in the morning, bragging about getting laid."