Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters and I am not affiliated in any way, shape or form with anyone who does.

He settled his head against the trailer; trying to stop shaking and failing miserably. At any moment he expected the vehicle to come to a stop and a pack of dogs to leap at him.

Maybe he would be better in the prison.

But then he’d just end up as the whore for whoever would become the replacement T-Bag.

Maybe he was better on the run.

He held out both his hands in front of him, weighing up the situation; trying to work out which he’d prefer – torn apart by dogs or spend another night in a prison cell.

Hell; he’d chose the dogs.