Before Winter Comes [ze_kraken x Morgan]

[ze_kraken]

​

Ethan had meandered back to his apartment, taking time to touch base with a few of his alternate watchmen in Haven to remind them to shape up for training the next day. By the time he made it back to his bed it was midday, the sun hanging directly overhead, not that it made the air any less chilly. Autumn had already come, and yet it felt more fleeting than ever. Ethan slipped deeper and deeper into his jacket as he made his rounds, enveloped in it fully like a shell by the time he reached his door.

The winds were bitter cold, slashing at his face whenever they rose through the streets of Haven. Inside was not much better. Once inside his room, Ethan wrapped himself in blankets and smoked, reflecting on his and Riley's ill-fated voyage to Coker Creek. They had meshed together more than he and Eliza had at first, which brought a smile to his face as recalled a nervous and inexperienced Riley holding a gun to his face upon his arrival to Haven. The light from her flashlight flashed behind his eyes as he placed himself back in the moment. That brought him back to memories of her hair cast in the moonlight back in the town, and Ethan shook himself.

"The fuck are you doing," he muttered to himself.

He shuddered as the Riley in his mind's eye faded and was replaced with her. Laura. Her blood seeping through open bite wounds on his hands, the look of sheer terror on her face, the haunting echo of her cries of pain. Ethan clutched his temples with both hands, images flashing just behind his eyes of violence and bloodshed as palpable as the lingering chill in his room, as real as the bed he sat in. He tasted bile on his tongue and the bitter metallic taste of blood. He had bitten his tongue, and yet he did not care.

Seconds became minutes as he struggled to fight off the rush of memories, coming to a shaky pause, leaning over the edge of his bed taking deep, deliberate breaths. He spat out blood and wiped his chin with the back of his hand, trailing more blood along his lips. Ethan's sore and weary muscles had tensed so stiffly that he could feel them aching again as he steadied himself, sinking back to bad and slipping into a shallow and troubled sleep.

When he woke, he was greeted to the fading light of twilight and roused himself awake after a lingering indulgence in the comfort of his blanket over his body. He did not want to venture back out into the cold, that nagging voice he had shoved deep down after years of feeding his brute survival instincts telling him to stay and rest a while. Just a little while more. With painful difficulty, Ethan shoved that voice back down and fetched a heavy jacket to better fend off the cold, shoving his spare handgun down the back of his pants and concealing it with his jacket.

All around him the workers of Haven returned home for the night. Part of him yearned to see Riley again, but wondered if he would collapse in on himself again, deciding it would be better they not cross paths tonight. Ethan cast thoughts of Riley aside, even if unlike the air around him they were warm and pleasant. He made his way to the main gate, relieving Eliza of her watch duties and fetching her rifle from where she left it by the main watchbox constructed atop the gate. He checked it for ammunition, tested its bolt action, and adjusted the zeroing on its sights.

Satisfied with the condition of his gear, Ethan began pacing the wall until something caught the attention. Movement. Just the slightest shimmer in the distance, the fainest ruffling of trees. Something told him that it was not wind, that same nagging feeling he had when he suspected someone of hiding a weapon or before a lurker turned a blind corner.

His eyes darted left then right, scanning for lights that might cast his silhouette beyond the walls. There was one, by Markus further down the wall to his right. Ethan cupped one hand to his mouth.

"Markus! Light! Get-"

CRACK.

Markus barely had time to turn. Ethan saw a bright flash, heard the resounding crackling echo. Markus fell over the edge of the wall, clutching his bleeding throat and collapsing to the stakes below with a wet crunch. Ethan ducked, flicking the safety off his rifle as more shots broke out, shattering the tense quiet of the night that had built up. Just as Ethan stilled his frantic heart and prepared to pop up over the parapet of the wall and take his first shot, more gunshots broke out, these further behind him. He watched in horror as figures clambered over the eastern wall. He hoisted his rifle up and fired his first shot, striking what he hoped was foe and not friend square in the chest, sending the figure crumpled to the ground.

"Watchers to me!" Ethan bellowed out, straining to be heard over the disparate cracking of gunfire.

A handful of pinned down watchmen and women poked out, struggling to reach Ethan as more and more enemies spilled over the eastern wall. They were armed with crossbows, stakes, handguns. Weapons meant for dispatching lurkers, not humans. Ethan sighted another raider, squeezing the trigger only to have it click. He had forgotten to chamber a new round. He slammed back the bolt and readied another shot, allowing himself to breath before firing again. Another hit.

"We need to get down there. Megan, Will, hold this gate. If they get through we're done. Rest of you, with me. Remember these aren't lurkers, you can aim for the chest."

He watched as the raiders lurched from the wall out to the town below, catching the faint glimmer of bare steel in the night. Screams and gunshots began to ring out from Haven as the gunshots coming from the gate began to dim down and die off.

Riley.

He had to find her. Breaking from his group, Ethan began to run towards her dwelling.

"Where are you going?!" Cried Will.

"Get to the armory, arm yourselves up. I'll be right there!"

Ethan hurdled down the stairs to the main streets of Haven, ducking behind a house just as two raiders spotted him. Their pistol shots went wide, missing Ethan and clattering harmlessly against the wall behind him. He clutched his rifle in both hands, steadied his hands. Their footsteps were getting closer. Closer. They were on him now. Ethan wheeled out from his corner, slamming the butt of his rifle into the nose of the first raider, a woman with dark hair and a pale face. Blood began pouring from her nose as he turned his attention to the second, a man with a grizzled beard and a scarred eye.

His arm swing forward and Ethan stumbled, pain flashing across his chest. With no time to investigate the extent of his injuries, he roared and lunged forward, rifle catching the second swing of the man's knife in its wooden frame. Ethan shoved upward, the metal barrel colliding with the man's chin, the jolt sending the rifle flying from Ethan's hands as the man sprawled backwards. Without thinking, Ethan fished his pistol from his pants and fired. How many times he did not know, but the man lay dead or dying as his companion renewed her attack. A quick burst and she was dead too.

He glanced down at his chest, noticing blood weeping from a deep gash and he grimaced. That would need stitches. Time for that later. For now he had to find her, find Riley...

 

[Morgan]

As she usually did, she found a soothing business in her work. Over the years, it was something Riley had grown to cherish. It kept her hands busy and her mind focused. But when she had become comfortable and skilled at making her traps, arrows and other contraptions, her mind was free to wonder other things. Sometimes she would think back to the world before all of this. Before it fell. It almost always made her sad, but sometimes she would recall a memory that brought her joy. Those were her favorites. Despite Riley's tough exterior, she had a big heart that pumped hot red blood through her veins.

Having Henry join her for a while was nice. It was good to talk about everything and nothing all at once. He helped her sharpening tools and making arrows, joked around and raised her spirits. Riley was tired but she still wanted to work. Even though she had been gone on Tom's orders, she felt like she owed the community a few days worth of work. It was a silly thing. Henry had been here, taking over where she had left off. He'd even told her as much. She teased him about his intricate knots and he teased her about being sloppy. It was a good, well-meant back and forth between them. Riley hoped that perhaps one day, she'd make another friend like the one she had in Henry. Perhaps Ethan? Perhaps if she could get a few more words out of him. A smirk tugged at her lips.

Before she knew it, the sun was setting. It cast dimmer, dying colors that painted the sky a deep red as it went down beyond the hills. Joined by her colleague, she headed back toward her small living space. The wind was chilly and bit her cheeks and Riley wrapped her jacket around her tighter. She would have to find warmer clothes soon. She said goodbye to Henry and headed up the stairs to her door and stepped inside. It was warmer in here. Riley kicked off her shoes, put her knife on its shelf and sat down on her bed. She reached out and turned on the lantern that stood by her bedside. Its light did what it could to fend off the encroaching darkness. Riley's hands reached up and worked through her hair, undoing the braid she always wore. Running fingers through brown strands and into her scalp, she let out a content sigh.

Moments later, she'd prepared herself for bed. But Riley never slept easily, so her clothes were always folded neatly on a chair by the bed, in the order she was going to put them on. The threat of something happening, something potentially life-threatening was always there and so she had to be prepared. Even so, she dozed off into a shallow sleep.

The first thing she heard was boots thundering up the wooden stairs. Riley stirred, then sat up on the edge of her bed. Her heart starting beating harder in her chest, pumping out adrenaline. She didn't have time to get dressed before the door leading into her room flew open. Riley felt her muscles tense and her hands curl into fists. Her eyes darted to her knife on the shelf and then back at... Henry? His eyes were wild and he was heaving for air.

"Get dressed! We're being attacked." The large man said urgently. It was clear that he was not in the mood for any delay. He was being serious. His eyes were wild and intense. His hands were on the door knob and the door frame.

"Henry?" Was all she could say. But she was already awake enough that she would comply. Riley got dressed faster than she ever had before. Outside the building noises began to ring out. People were moving about outside. "What do you mean we're being attacked?" Panic welled up when she said the word. It was as if it made it more real. This wasn't a drill. Not an exercise. She slowly began to realize what this could mean. "Raiders?" Riley asked, clasping her belt around her.

"Raiders. Listen, we've gotta-" The air seemed to get stuck in his throat for a moment. His words stopped. Henry's eyes went wide. Someone was rushing up the stairs. Riley looked at him. Blood began to turn Henry's jacket red at his left side. An arrow was sticking out, though it had gone in to the feathers. A crossbow bolt. It had gone through his ribs and pierced his lung. A soft groan and a breath of air escaped the large man. Before he fell, a second arrow caught him in the side of his neck.

Riley couldn't even scream. She couldn't make a noise as she stood and watched a spurt of blood come out of him, where the bolt was in his neck. As Henry fell into the door and forward, Riley jumped forward to catch him, but couldn't. He was heavy and lifeless. His blood was spilling out, covering her hands and arms. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. But she wasn't given time to mourn him or recover. Someone landed at the top of the stairs and quickly fixed their eyes on her. It was a man. A tall, skinny figure with long arms. He had long and greasy hair and was clutching a crossbow, though it wasn't loaded. Riley stood up but fell back on her bed. Her hand instinctively went to her back to get out her knife, but before she could draw it the man was on her.

His hands were ice cold and clutching her throat. She gasped for air. Her right arm was trapped beneath her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. For a while, all that could be heard was him breathing with the effort and her trying desperately to suck in air. Her left hand moved and clawed at his face, but he didn't seem to care much. He growled angrily and squeezed even tighter. Riley's desperation grew more intense and her fingers found his nose. She began to pull his face away. If only she could shift his weight enough. Her right hand was on the hilt of her blade, but she couldn't draw it. Not yet. The man began to move as she clawed at his face and tugged and pulled and shoved. He growled again, even more angry. Her right hand tugged at the knife and just as her pulse was pounding in her head and the strain was causing her head to ache, it came loose of its sheath.

His blood was warm and metallic as it sprayed out onto her face. He went limp and Riley managed to roll away. She spat and coughed, though managed to hold onto the knife. She'd stuck it into his neck, just below the jaw. He lay on the ground and clutched at the wound, but it didn't take long before all struggling stopped. It did, however, take a while before Riley had caught her breath. She crawled across the floor, pushed at Henry to turn him onto his back and put her hands on both his cheeks. They left bloody marks. He was still and dead. Tears spilled down her cheeks again as she sobbed into his chest.

It wasn't until she noticed the quiet in the room that she noticed the sporadic gunfire outside. How many raiders were there? Riley calmed herself, looked up and listened. The cracks grew more frequent as they rung through the air. A deep fear seemed to mix with the adrenaline in her blood and soon coursed through her veins, eventually pooling in her stomach. Riley's hands were shaking as she stood from the floor, unable to looked at Henry any more. She wiped her hands on their assailant as best she could, sheathed the knife and put on her jacket. She couldn't stay here as much as she wanted to. It would mean certain death. Even though the thing she had feared most for the past few years was happening, she might stand a better chance out there. Or at least she would die fighting.

Riley took two deep breaths and then headed out her door and down the stairs. The only weapon she had was her knife. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, caught on the wind as it sent a breeze toward her. Then a thought struck her. Ethan. Was he on watch tonight? There were so many people in Haven, but for some reason she thought of him now. Riley put her shoulder against the door leading outside and soon found herself spectator to a grim scene. Flashes and cracks rang out all around her. People were fighting and shouting. Riley turned left and stuck to the shadows, not wanting to be seen. She had to find Ethan.

 

[ze_kraken]

​

Ethan stood frozen for a moment over the still-warm corpses of the two raiders he had slain, his fresh knife wound stinging in the cold night air. Not that he cared. His blood was up, the cold a distant memory now. All around him cracked intermittent gunfire and the screams of the injured or dying. Delving back into an adrenaline-fueled mania, he checked his pistol. Four shots left. He tossed the weapon aside and took one each from the woman and the man, shoving the second of the two into the hem of his pants, taking a moment to check the safety was on.

Adopting a hunched stance, Ethan began to prowl the streets, pistol held tight to his chest at the ready. Down the main street running east-west through Haven he saw a handful of raiders and survivors of Haven clashing with hand weapons. He did not have a clean shot, and, besides, Riley was out there somewhere. Focusing in on his task, Ethan left the survivors to their fate and glanced over to the eastern wall from the corner of the house he stood by. There were two raiders covering the street with crossbows, watching their companions' flanks. Ethan saw their crossbows, saw the open expanse between himself and the other side of the street.

He would never make it if either of the raiders were decent shots. Ethan took a knee and extended his arm out, aiming for the closest raider, bracing against the corner of the wall. They had not spotted him yet. The din of the hell raging on around him receded as he focused in on his target, exhaling and squeezing the trigger. His shot connected with the raider's shoulder, sending him lurching backward. His companion was quicker-witted, loosing a bolt that struck the side of the house just behind Ethan. He ducked reflexively, hearing the bolt whistle past his ear and slam into the cheap siding of the other house.

Seizing the opportunity, Ethan jumped up and sprinted across the street as the man readied another bolt. His injured companion had recovered and loosed his bolt, the missile slicing open Ethan's leg with a grazing hit. Yelping in pain, Ethan staggered to the ground and half-limped half-ran over between two other houses. He glanced out over the corner, seeing the two men with fresh bolts loaded start to head towards where Ethan sat crouched. Wincing, Ethan hoisted himself up to his feet by leveraging his back against the side of the house. He popped around the corner and opened fire at the first raider, downing him with a round to the chest. His companion retreated, loosing his bolt involuntarily.

Ethan wheeled around and made his way deeper into the block of houses behind him, pistol held at the ready. The gunshots were becoming more frequent now, and Ethan hoped it was because some had made it to the armory as he finally limped to Riley's dwelling. He looked around, seeing no one, and hobbled over to the door, only just now realizing in his pain-clouded awareness that the door had been knocked in.

"Riley?!" He called out, not caring if it alerted others to his presence. "Where are you?!"

 

[Morgan]

The air was colder than before. It bit her skin more than when she had returned to her apartment, hours ago. But so much adrenaline coursed through her veins that she hardly noticed. Riley was busy trying to keep herself hidden. The thought of being caught by a stray bullet scared her. Or a crossbow bolt. The look on Henry's face and the gargle of blood returned to her mind. It was something that would never leave her, she was sure. Riley had been witness to a lot of gruesome things over the past few years, but this one she would never forget.

She slowly crept around the corner of her building and into an alley, following it toward the darkening end. Between the walls of the houses, she could hear her own heavy breathing and tried to calm herself. There was a few seconds of quiet; a pause in the shooting. But it didn't take long for the noise to start again. In the distance, screams could be heard. Cries of pain and anger. Would the dead hear the commotion and the battle? She wondered if they would be attracted by it, and assault all of them. None of them knew friend from foe. There were driven by a single desire. They would rip and tear flesh, regardless of who their victim was.

Her hand followed the bricks as she neared the end of the alley. Riley looked behind her and was relieved that no one was following her. But that would soon be replaced by a blinding pain when she turned her gaze in front of her. A fist collided with her face. It struck so hard and true that it split the skin where it connected with her eyebrow. Riley staggered back and hit the wall, then landed hard on the ground. A warm line of blood ran down her face and Riley struggled to focus on her attacker. She brought her knife up in defense. The man in front of her was broad, arms as thick as logs.

"Riley?! Where are you?!"

Ethan? Where was he? Slowly she realized that his voice was coming from behind her. From the direction she had just come from. Had he been looking for her as well? Riley stared at the man in front of her for a second, before she could think of shouting back. "ETHAN!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. She scrambled to her feet, holding her knife out in front of her. A low chuckle escaped the man who stepped toward her. He grabbed at Riley's wrist, but she cut him instead. She was quicker than he was. A growl escaped him. He approached again and Riley swiped at him a second time, drawing blood once more. He growled louder. This time she didn't manage to block the punch he threw at the same time. It connected with her ribs, knocking the wind out of her.

Next thing she knew, she was pinned against the wall. His hand was around her neck, squeezing tightly. She could feel breathing become more and more difficult as he pushed her up the wall. Riley dropped her knife, moving her hands to grab at his as her feet dangled a few inches over the ground. She couldn't scream anymore. Her voice was gone. She kicked at the man, but he closed the small distance between them. Desperately, she clawed at his face, trying to force him to release his grip.

 

[ze_kraken]

​

"ETHAN!"

Riley.

Ethan spun around and attempted to pinpoint the cry, discerning it to have come from an alley just to his left. He raised his pistol and peered into the alleyway, being sure to keep his full silhouette from breaking along the length of the alley. He caught a flurry of movement from behind a jutting pillar of bricks on the side of Riley's building, right about where he surmised the utility panel to be.

"Riley?" He asked, projecting his voice just enough to carry down the alley over the low din of sporadic gunshots and clashing men and woman.

No answer came.

Ethan snarled to himself as he prowled the alley, pistol never straying from his center. Then he heard the sounds of struggle, growls of pain followed by the distinct thud of a body striking stone or brick. Ethan rushed forward, careless to his quietness as he rounded the corner of the narrow brick wall, barking a curse or a war cry or something else he could not quite remember as he surrendered himself to instinct.

He was a bull, hair shaved, a bushy ginger beard forked and tied into a braid, his arms almost as wide as Ethan's torso. Ethan scanned him as he held Riley in a choke hold, seeing a knife at his belt. No firearms. It was either Ethan's sudden exclamation or the way Riley had looked to him from over the bull's shoulder that caused him to spin in place, holding Riley aloft with one hand keeping her in place by the throat. He glowered at Ethan, letting Riley fall to the ground.

Time slowed as the bull rushed Ethan, fishing his knife from its sheath and swinging in a wide, careless arc. Ethan sidestepped the swipe, slamming the butt of his pistol against the bull's arm. He grunted in pain, dropping the knife to the ground. Ethan planted his boot atop the knife and kicked it over to Riley who was hunched on her knees and hands, spluttering.

The bull gripped Ethan by the shoulders and hurled him at the wall, sending him careening into the bricks head-first. Ethan swerved as the world suddenly spun and flashed before his eyes, head swimming as he saw not one by two of the bull rushing at him. As if by instinct, Ethan adopted a ready stance, catching the bull as he collided with Ethan, holding him in place with locked arms and dug in heels. The two pushed and shoved, Ethan losing ground swiftly; he was simply too large, Ethan too frail. Ethan struck the man in the temple with the butt of his pistol, allowing himself to be pushed back into the wall as the bull lurched backwards.

Ethan lunged forward, driving his elbow into the bull, driving him into the brick wall and hoisting him around, planting his pistol on his forehead. He heard footsteps and unfamiliar voices emerging behind him. He looked to Riley, holding the still-dazed bull aloft. The bull squirmed and struggled in Ethan's grip, but another strike to the temple stunned him again. Ethan muffled the bull with his arm, waiting for the others to pass before finishing him.

"Get up," Ethan snarled in a hushed whisper. "Get the knife and let's take care of this fucker."

 

[Morgan]

​

When his grip loosened from around her throat, she sucked in a life-giving breath of air. Her throat was sore and her breathing was difficult. Riley coughed and sputtered, finding herself on the ground. The impact barely registered as catching her breath was more important than the pain in her knees. Her neck was sore where the behemoth's fingers had squeezed. Her pulse was racing, heart straining to pump out blood. The adrenaline in her system was reinforcing primal instincts that bubbled to the surface. He'd turned his attention away from her. Ethan had arrived out of the darkness. But even though they now outnumbered their enemy, it would take their combined effort to bring him down. ​

​

She had barely regained a normal breathing before something skipped across the ground toward her, making a metallic clink as it did. A knife. Riley reached out and wrapped her fingers around its hilt. At the same time, she heard the unmistakable sound of a body colliding with stone. The big man had thrown Ethan against the bricks. Once he'd recovered, the two of them struggled for a while. Riley stumbled to her feet, taking a second or two to stop her head spinning. Ethan had managed to stun the man enough for them to overpower him. Riley walked towards them. ​

​

Her hand gripped the knife tightly. There was a fire in her eyes. A rage that was fueled by adrenaline. Deep down it was rooted in the drive to survive and the brutal anger at the man, for wanting to take her life. Riley was not about to die. She was going to survive. She had so far and she would live through this. And this big fucker was not going to stop her. She gritted her teeth, approached and drove the blade of the knife into his heart with deadly precision. There was a muffled groan but after only a few seconds, the big body went limp. ​

​

Riley took a step back, blinked and looked from him to Ethan and back. She realized what she had done. Even though it was him or her - life and death - it still felt strange. Riley had never killed another living human being before. But he had wanted to kill her, so it was easy to justify it. Her surprised, dazed expression was soon replaced with one that indicated her true feelings. Riley stepped over him and approached Ethan. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ​

​

"Thank you." She said. But there was no time for this. They were under attack. So Riley stepped back and brushed her hair back. Her fingers went up to rub at her neck. It was sore already. She had been fighting for air. The sense of panic that had seized her was terrifying. If Ethan had not arrived she would have been dead by now. He had saved her life. But Riley couldn't dwell on it. Not now. Tears were threatening to spill over and run down her cheeks, and now was not the time. ​

​

There was still fighting around them. The raiders had come from many directions. They'd climbed in over the walls as well as attacking the main gate. Was Haven lost? Would they have to escape somehow? Where could they go? She shook her head, trying to keep it clear. "Is there any way we can get out of here?" Riley looked back up at Ethan, wondering if he had seen anything on his way here. "Do you know how many they are?"​

 

[ze_kraken]

​

Ethan let the dying bull slip through his grip and on to the ground as gingerly as he could. As he steadied himself back on his feet, still dazed, he found himself stumbling again as Riley wrapped him in a hug. Caught off guard, Ethan could barely lean in to the hug and uneasily wrap his arms around her shoulders before it was over. Ethan swayed in place, vision still swimming from his brush with the brick wall just moments ago. He looked over his shoulder to the crumbled bricks where he and then the bull had been thrust, nodding curtly in response to Riley's thanks.

Ethan fished his second pistol from the belt line of his jeans and handed it to Riley handle-first. She looked understandably shell-shocked, and Ethan could see traces of guilt behind the burning fire of raw fight-or-flight instinct. He had known what it had been like to feel that, once. Long ago. No matter - more for talks about humanity later.

"We have to get to the armory," Ethan said, adopting the same tone he might have delivering an after-action report to a superior so many years ago. "Armed as we are we won't last a day out there. It looks like the raiders were headed for town hall, and most of the fighters have fallen back there. We should be able to get what we need, get out of here. I don't know how many there are, I counted fifteen over the walls, maybe ten outside with real guns. I don't know if the gates have fallen."

He paused then, offering Riley a wry wink and a shallow smirk.

"Safety off, aim for the chest. We'll be alright."

He gestured for Riley to follow, adopting as ready a stance as he could on his unsteady feet. He wheeled about the corner back to the clear area in front of Riley's apartment, heading for the northern portion of the main street. The din of gunfire was closer now, and Ethan could see rounds clattering off of the town hall and few shots shouting back in reply. It would be over soon. Ethan watched in horror as he caught plumes of smoke flickering out from around the gate, thick and pitch black.

"Armory's there," he pointed to a house across the northern main street, door still sealed and no raiders in sight. "We'll need to rush in, grab a shotgun, crossbow, and whatever rations we and the bags to carry them. After that, there's a way out the rear gate."

Ethan paused, looking Riley over.

"Hey," he said, softly. "You got this."

 

[Morgan]

She took the gun as it was handed to her automatically. Memories flashed back into her mind from years ago. When she had first met Ethan. Riley had approached him, heart in her throat, waving a gun she hardly knew how to hold. She was so nervous she couldn't even remember if the gun had been loaded. That was such a long time ago. Fortunately, she had learned a lot in the meantime. She wasn't as good with guns as she was with knives and bows, but she knew how to use the pistol Ethan had handed to her. With that in mind, she returned to the present and looked back up at him. It was dark, but one side of his face was illuminated by a dim light. She studied him for a second, eyes searching for wounds. It was hard to tell in the dark. Blood was black in the night and there was no time to bandage wounds. She would have to trust him and trust him to let her know.

So that was the plan. Get to the armory and get the hell out. Riley couldn't say it sat well with her. In fact, it stung as she thought about leaving. This was their home. She knew people here. Henry. Maggie. Chances were they were already dead, however. These raiders had come here to overtake Haven. They were not peacefully going to join their community. They took by force. What chance did they have? Riley finished reasoning with herself. She knew they had to get out if they wanted to live. She pushed the guilt aside and saved it for later.

Safety off, aim for the chest. She nodded. These enemies felt pain. The undead did not. A shot to the chest would incapacitate them for sure. When Ethan began moving again she followed, but noticed his slightly unsteady movement. Perhaps he wasn't fine. She made a mental note of taking a look at him once they got out of Haven.

She followed his gaze but hid her horror and surprise. It was a grizzly sight. Riley focused, swallowed hard and took a deep breath and calmed herself. She felt the fire in her veins cool slightly and felt panic and stress change into focus and determination. She nodded when he spoke again. That was their plan and she would do whatever she could to get the two of them out of Haven, with as many supplies they could carry. It was clear that Haven would fall soon. The survivors that were left standing were hard pressed. And Riley would rather try her luck with Ethan out in the wild, than take a bullet in here.

"Hey. You got this."

Riley nodded again and tapped his shoulder with her hand. She gave him a brief smile, took another deep breath and then nodded toward the armory. By the looks of it, they wouldn't get a better chance. A lot of the fighting was focused in and around the town hall. Judging by the sounds of fighting, there were few people near the walls. It seemed the denizens of Haven had rushed into the streets and a lot of them had gathered at town hall. Riley readied herself and then gave the street a last look before she nodded toward the armory. "Let's go." She said in a low voice.

Ethan moved in front of her and she followed. They moved silently and stuck to the shadows as much they could, but crossing the street put them out in the open. But it seemed that for once luck smiled on them. No one opened fire on them. Riley's heart was in her throat. No lamps lined the streets of Haven, much to their good fortune. No words were exchanged between the two of them. It was as if they shared their determination and focus. It was good that the two of them worked so well together.

There was an alley down next to the armory. It was dark and would hide them completely. She leaned against the wall there, scouting behind them. She checked the way they had come from but found that no one was following them. It was almost too good to believe. Riley looked at Ethan and shook her head. "Clear." She said simply. "How do we get in?" Did he have a key? Was there a different way into the armory? If they began shooting out windows or the lock, they'd surely be found.

 

[ze_kraken]

​

"How do we get in?"

Ethan grimaced. They had no keys - those were in town hall, which swiftly was being overrun by raiders no more than one hundred yards in front of them from their hiding place in the alleyway. He checked his pistol's magazine - ten rounds. Call it two to blow out a door or a window. That left eight if anyone heard them, and by quick glance alone from his and Riley's quick dash across the street that would not cut it if even half the raiders heard. No, that would not do.

Lost in thought, Ethan almost neglected the faint groaning from just behind the armory. He wheeled about and took a cautious step towards the noise, expecting a lurker to come barreling around the corner. After a moment passed and no shambling corpse reared its head, Ethan stepped out around the corner and examined the source of the noise. Will sat leaning against the back wall, clutching a vicious wound in his gut. Ethan swallowed back a gasp, rushing to his side.

Will was young, in his twenties Ethan had wagered. He had survived on his own at sixteen before finding Haven, and now sat here clutching his own guts.

"Axe," Will explained, coughing, tossing his head back. "They got me with an axe."

"Yeah, they did," Ethan replied, hunching down by Will. "Did you put up a good fight?"

"No," Will gave a shaky laugh, wincing and clutching his injury tighter. "I worked in the kitchens with Maggie, you saw how well I could use a gun. I deserve this."

"You don't. You don't deserve this."

"Yeah well at least I won't get back up from this," Will shrugged weakly. "I held the gate as long as I could, but they got over. I ran back to the armory as fast as I could..."

He grimaced, coughing again, blood trailing down his lips when he looked back up.

"Well, that's when they got me."

Ethan nodded slowly, biting his lower lip in equal parts anguish and uncertainty. What should he say? He had seen friends and loved ones die, but never quite like this. They had either been bitten or shot, killed slowly by fever or quickly by violence. Ethan glanced over his shoulder at Riley, then to the alleyway where the side door into the armory was.

"Look, Will," Ethan started. "I know, I know this is-"

"I have a key," he interrupted. "I know that's why you came this way, I know that's why you're even talking to me."

That stung, but Ethan had no room to talk. He and Will over years together at Haven had never spent more than a couple minutes together talking at any given time, and never for more than trivial or work-related matters. Wincing, Will reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and tossed Ethan the key to the armor. Ethan nodded his thanks, passing the key through his fingers, unsure of what to say next. Will made it easier.

"Go," he spluttered. "Go, get out of here while you still can. Might be you're the only one that was going to survive this anyways."

He laughed, a note of mania lingering as he coughed and spluttered blood.

"Might be you were the only one doing this right the whole time."

 

[Morgan]

​

Riley's knees gave in and she instantly went into a ready stance at the noise. The low groan initially sounded like one of the undead behind them and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Something cold went up her spine and her heart beat hard against her chest. She followed Ethan slowly, unsure why the lurker didn't reveal itself. They rarely stayed hidden. Once they were alerted to the presence of humans, their bloodlust overtook them and they charged with singular determination. But no such thing happened. Riley poked her head around the corner seconds after Ethan, ready to put bullets into whatever may be waiting for them. But nothing was waiting for them. Nothing hostile, at least.​

​

The smell of blood hit her nostrils and combined with the sight of his wound and the general state of him, Riley had to suppress a gag. It was a thick scent in the cold air and it was worse than the sight of the wound itself, she thought. Riley had seen and treated her fair share of injuries over the years, but it wasn't often like this. His name was Will. Riley knew him, but not close. She stood and watched him and Ethan exchange words, glancing over her shoulder from time to time, to make sure they wouldn't be caught off guard. She grimaced at the scene and at his words. He didn't deserve to die like this. No one did. But it was clear there was nothing they could do for him. Even he knew that. Will cut Ethan short and produced a key. Even with death looming above him, Will knew that the two of them had to leave. It was a sad sight and it affected her, but she had to steel herself to not let her emotions overtake her. Riley took a deep breath. She wanted to say something, but no words came. ​

​

When they turned back around the corner, Riley pointed her gun at the other end of the alley, waiting for Ethan to unlock the door to the armory. She was focused again. She heard the lock turn and the door open, and without a word she followed Ethan inside but didn't take her eyes off the alleyway until she stepped through the doorway. It was dark inside, but there was no point in turning on a light. It would only give away their position. Riley squinted, stuck the gun in her belt on her back and looked around. Hanging on a nail on the wall were a few backpacks. Large ones, like those they had used on their trip to Coker Creek. Riley pulled one off the wall and opened it. Plenty of room. On shelves lining one wall were ration packs, MRE's, bedrolls, lanterns, axes, rope, gloves and much more. She paused as she looked everything over and then took down another backpack. ​

​

"You go ahead and find us some weapons." She said, gesturing toward the racks of weapons. Ethan knew more about what would serve them best and they had to be quick. "I'll pack these." She pointed to the two backpacks she'd put on the table, both open and ready to be filled with survival gear. ​

​

There wasn't much water in here. It was something they would need to find as soon as they could, once they left Haven. There was quite a bit of food, so that would keep them going for a while. But clean water was crucial. Riley began taking things down from the shelf. She packed food. Cans and rations. Dried fruit, beans, nuts and more. She attached a lantern to both their packs and attached it securely, so it wouldn't make noise as they moved. A pair of gloves for both of them, a small axe, a length of rope, water bottles. Riley didn't know if Ethan had a knife on him, so she grabbed a good hunting knife and put it in his pack. It had a firesteel so they could use it to light a fire. Just like her own. The bedroll would be tied on top of the backpack once they were done. But Riley had left a bit of room for spare ammunition, if they had any.​

​

Turning around, her eyes had adjusted to the dark a little bit. The sounds from outside seemed to have died down a little bit more. There was still shooting going on, but it all seemed to come from the town hall. Riley didn't want to think on how it must be to defend it, fighting in close quarters against the raiders. "Missing anything?" She asked Ethan. She was done with packing the bags and eager to get out of Haven. They were close now but they had to hurry. Once the raiders were in complete control of town hall, they would search the rest of Haven to make sure they had killed or captured every defender. ​

​

​

 

[ze_kraken]

​

Ethan nodded at Riley's instructions, draping his jacket over a nearby chair and heading into the rear room of the armory as Riley sorted out the supplies. He fetched a handful of medical tape and bandage wraps from the first aid station by the doorway into the weapon's room and hastily bound the wounds on both his chest and leg. It was quick work, and would not last him more than a day at most, but it was that or continue to bleed out along the way.

Wounds dealt with for the time being, Ethan began scanning through what weapons were available. The defenders of Haven had already taken their choice picks of rifles, crossbows, and handguns. Ethan smirked. Even when their world was falling apart, they had not neglected to lock the door behind them. He wondered, as he fished the key to his and Eliza's own personal storage, what good that had done others trying to find a decent means of survival for themselves.

No matter, now. Soon they would all be dead, or worse, Ethan concluded as he opened the drawers' top shelf. Inside was another handgun and holster. Ethan threaded the holster's belt through his pants' belt loops and ensured the pistol was secure before retrieving an assault rifle from the drawer and shouldering it by its strap. He fished a number of pistol magazines from the drawer as well, able to spare only 2 for the rifle before shutting the drawer and stuffing the magazines in the hem of his pants.

Main hardware accounted for, Ethan looked around for suitable weapons for Riley. There was a single crossbow left, a shotgun just beside it, both mounted horizontally upon the wall. He approached the wall, grabbing each as well as ammunition for both. With full hands, Ethan entered the main room once more, planting Riley's choices on a nearby table.

"Place was pretty ransacked, but I was able to snag you some choices," he gestured to the weapons beside him atop the table. "I've got ammo for the pistols and everything else. It isn't much, but it'll see us through the next few days if we're lucky."

Ethan put his jacket back on before taking a pack from Riley and slinging the rifle from his shoulders to the table, stuffing the magazines in an empty pocket before shouldering the pack. He nodded to himself, hoisting up the rifle, finger resting perpendicular to the trigger guard. His heart felt heavy as an iron brick in his chest, filled with equal parts dread and uncertainty as he heard the gunshots outside die down. They did not have much longer now.

"Let's get going, give me whichever weapon you don't want and I'll carry it with us. Might come in handy," he chuckled, then, though it was a mirthless laugh. "Provided we aren't killed after stepping outside."

 

[Morgan]

​

She looked up when he came back into the room. Armed to the teeth. She thought, but struggled to produce a smile. Riley hadn't expected there to be much for them to take, initially. The defenders of Haven had been here already and taken what weapons they needed. But there were still some left for the two of them, for which Riley felt grateful. It would serve them well during the next few hours and hopefully well beyond that. Her mind raced to make sure she had packed everything they needed and could fit in the packs. In her stressed situation, she had done her best. She reassured herself by reasoning that what they had now, would see them through the next few days at least. What they did from there, they would have to figure out in unison. But that was already thinking too far ahead. She had to stay in the present and play her part in getting the two of them out of Haven alive. ​

​

Pistol stuck in the hem of her pants at her back, she flung the backpack onto her shoulders. Everything was tied securely and neatly. Riley looked at her options on the table and thought for a moment. She reached out and took the shotgun. For now that seemed her best option. The crossbow could be vital later, if they were to hunt their own food and wanted to do so quietly. Besides, in the relatively close quarters they would be fighting, if they would be fighting, a shotgun might cause the most damage to an enemy. ​

​

She too had noticed the gunfire dying down. The silence to come scared her more than the fighting, she realized. It would be eerily quiet once the fighting was completely done. Even though Haven had been her home for years now and everything she knew, her entire world, was here, she wanted desperately to leave it behind. In that moment, it became apparent to her that even though she sometimes had a rather grim outlook on life, such as it was, Riley was scared of dying. Again she felt a rage bubble in her chest. As if death posed a challenge. A challenge she was determined to overcome. Death was an opponent she would defeat. At least for now. Riley was not ready to leave yet. She was fueled by an intense wish to do her part in trying to make the world a better place. Humanity needed to rise again, if they wanted to survive. It was a realization and a sudden flood of emotions that would have moved her to tears, had she not had the presence of mind to steel herself and focus on the task at hand. ​

​

Ethan's chuckle surprised her. Not only did it seem out of place, but he grinned in a way she hadn't seen before. Riley didn't mirror his expression, however. Perhaps it was his way of coping with the imminent threat of death and the general danger they were in. She didn't hold it against him. Instead, she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze to reassure not only him, but herself as well. "Let's get the fuck out of here." She said, emphatically. Riley nodded, took a deep breath and headed for the door. ​

​

The door made no sound as she pushed it open. She saw no one outside either. No sounds could be heard from around the corner where Will was sitting, clutching his wounds. Riley stepped out and waited for Ethan. She shouldered the shotgun, mentally preparing herself for the recoil, should she need to fire it. Her finger was resting next to the trigger, just like she had seen Ethan do. "Perhaps we can climb the walls? Where the raiders did?" It was the best idea she could come up with at the moment. Going through the main gate was a suicide mission. But there were no holes in the fence and walls - Riley had patrolled and repaired it many times along with her colleagues. It was sure as daylight that the raiders would be covering every entrance, to stop anyone from escaping. They had to sneak out undetected. ​

 

[ze_kraken]

​

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Ethan echoed, relishing if even for the briefest of instants the feeling of Riley's hand in his own. "There's a way out the wall they climbed over, I'll show you."

Ethan took the crossbow and its quiver, strapping the quiver opposite his holster and slinging the crossbow over one shoulder. He nodded to Riley, holding his pistol at the ready and leaving the rifle to hang by its strap as she cautiously opened the door. The weight of his gear dragged on his shoulders, slowing his movements as he checked the alley. They were clear. He holstered the pistol and opted for the rifle, clutching it in both hands deftly.

Outside the gunfire had all but died out, and all that was left was jeering shouts and taunts from the raiders coupled with the low clanging of hand weapons and screams of pain that threaded through the hazy, smoky night sky. Orange tongues of flame could be seen licking up the sides of city hall as Ethan peered back out along the main street and he shuddered. Being smoked out or burned alive was no way to go.

"Follow me," Ethan whispered, casting thoughts of the survivors of Haven aside.

He doubled back around up the alleyway, past Will's limp body and towards the wall. Though the raiders had scaled it without a problem, they had been lightly armed and carrying only what they needed to fight. That option was not an appealing one, Ethan wagered. They would be spotted before they had even managed to safely haul their kits over the wall and shot or worse.

Once the duo reached the wall, Ethan hunched low and gestured towards the part of the wall that ran towards the north with one hand, being sure to keep his other by the trigger.

"Up that way, about fifteen yards," he whispered. "There's a couple of loose tires we used for a repair a while ago. Eliza and I kept it open in case we ever needed to sneak people out."

Ethan prowled along the wall, each step painfully measured to avoid snapping a twig or upturning gravel. He could hear the raiders spreading out now, starting to hunt for lingering survivors. They did not have long. Arriving at the mound of tires filling a gap no wider than a person shoulder to shoulder and about half of Riley's height, Ethan set down his rifle and began to tug at the tires.

"Help me with this," he said to Riley softly. "Keep it quiet."

The two began the process of yanking the tires as swiftly and quietly as they could. Sweat beaded down Ethan's brow and dripped onto the ground as he continually cast glances over his shoulder. Every shadow jumped out at him, every carrying voice sent pangs of panic shooting down his spine. He feared that even the soft plop of his sweat in the ground below would be enough to carry across Haven and doom him and Riley both.

After what felt like hours of tense work with the tires, there was a gap wide enough for Ethan and Riley to squeeze through after pushing their packs through. Once through, Ethan cast one last glance through the hole they had left to ensure they had not been followed. Without a second though, he turned back to Riley, smirking.

"Alright," he said, voice low. "That was the hardest part but we're not safe yet. We need to head opposite Coker Creek, because for all we know that's where they picked us up at."

He paused then, casting a hopeful glance at Riley, smirk fading.

"So, which way, tracker?"

 

[Morgan]

They were out. They'd made it. Riley looked around and tried to get her bearings. She had a rough image of the map of the area in her head, and knew which direction Cooker Creek was in. But they were not going there. God no. She stood and listened for a few moments. A strong sense of guilt threatened to overwhelm her, but she swallowed hard and fought back the heads that stung in her eyes and suppressed her emotions. Not now. Riley looked at Ethan and nodded in the direction she wanted to take them. West, at least for a while. It was her hope that they might find a place where they could sit down and plot a route for the next few days, but right now they just needed to put some distance between themselves and Haven. "This way." She said simply. If she tried speaking, she was afraid that her emotions would get the best of her.

She took determined steps away from the home she had lived in for years now. Away from the people that has taken her in, sheltered her and fed her. It hadn't sunk in yet, that they were now on their own and everything behind them was lost. Surviving in the wild was difficult enough as it was, but the thread of the undead only made it more difficult. This was apparent to both of them, of course, but Haven meant certain death. Riley glanced to her side and was thankful for Ethan and having him with her. Perhaps the two of them would stand a chance. She walked a little closer to him. "If we head west, there are a few small towns. Perhaps we can shelter there for a bit?" Riley suggested, keeping her voice low. "They're really small though. I'm hoping there won't be very many walkers there. If we walk all through the night and keep a decent pace, we should be there before noon." Riley tried to calculate how long it would take her and before noon was doable, provided nothing slowed them down.

"Small is fine," croaked Ethan as the two headed in the direction Riley had pointed out. "It'll be a long night, but we'll make it."

Even if his tone was sincere, something about the manner in which he said it was off-putting. Almost as if it was forced optimism. Still, he trudged on alongside Riley, never straying further than arms' reach as they left Haven to disappear into the trees behind them.

Though the sun would not rise for several hours yet, and the sky was still an inky black, the two made it along the underbrush just fine. Their going was slow, each being sure to avoid undue noise and to keep their figures concealed in the brush. So far they had been lucky - no guards had been posted to cover the raiders' advance in this direction.

The pops of gunfire were gone, leaving an eerie silence that hung over the night sky heavy like the readily apparent plumes of smoke and sparks that could be seen still hovering over Haven's walls. It permeated the forest, adding its weight atop the burdens the two already shouldered. After they had been on the path for a while, Ethan finally cleared his throat, seemingly comfortable enough to speak without threat of being heard.

"I'm glad I found you when I did," he stated bluntly. "When I left Maryland, I was alone and there were times I was sure I should have died. Being with someone, it…"

He paused for a moment.

"It just helps take away the feeling that everything's lost, and I thought you should know that."

She glanced to the side as he spoke. She wasn't used to hearing Ethan talk like this. About this. But there was something about it that warmed her heart just a little bit. Despite their situation and the immense loss they had suffered, they could find solace in each other and that was worth so much.

"I'm glad you're here, Ethan." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Her hand reached out to grab his elbow and she gave him another squeeze. Riley was usually very mindful of personal space, but their situation was extraordinary enough for her to abandon that. Tears stung her eyes again but she managed to blink them away. Not now. She let go of his arm and scanned the area. They approached a gentle slope that would take them down to a road that ran north. But Riley wasn't sure they should follow it. When they got there, she slowed down and looked to either side. It was quiet. Quiet in a way she didn't like. It creeped up on her and settled within her, chilling her from the inside.

"If we stay off the roads, we can take a more direct route." She said, turning to face Ethan at the edge of the road. She wasn't sure it was faster, since she didn't know exactly where this road would take them, but if they stuck to their current heading, she knew they would reach their destination. "Besides we might run into lurkers on the road." Riley shrugged, waiting for his input.

"Non-direct is good," Ethan replied as they took a moment to pause by the edge of the treeline overlooking a slope that gave way to a lonely stretch of crumbled and destroyed road. "There's no telling who's where, and what route those assholes will take back to wherever they're from."

He paused, hunching down on one knee as he gazed out over the road and to what he assumed was the town below.

"If we loop around this way, keeping the road in sight, we should be fine," he continued. "Might take us a little longer, but I don't want to push our luck any more than we already have."

She nodded, finding herself thinking on their trip to Coker Creek. They had worked well together then, and they would have to find that mode again. But there were so many other things racing around her skull, bringing her mind to the edge of collapse. She used all her strength to think of something other than Haven. Riley sighed and shifted her weight.

"No, let's just…. Stay alive." She said, nodding. Once they were ready to continue, she placed herself at Ethan's side again. They would be spending a lot of time walking through the woods, but it wasn't the journey itself that weighed on her.

"Do you think we should go north or south? Once we're ready, I mean. After we've found some shelter." Riley asked, after a while. She had been thinking about it, but wasn't sure what was their best option. North would be colder and colder and winter would be setting in before long. Was south any better, though? They knew so precious little about the world now, that they would have to think long and hard about which direction they would chose.

"Might be further up north the dead freeze and aren't as much of a problem," Ethan admitted as they ventured down the gentle slope through the treeline and into the valley below. "But I remember, back when we still had those government zones it felt like we'd always get stragglers every winter from further up north. Less dead, sure, but more sickness, less food."

He hesitated.

"A couple of them, well.. A couple of them we're pretty sure ate people, too, when things got desperate enough. So, no, I don't think north is the plan. Might be out west there's more food, but the military also dumped landmines to slow down the dead all over the place. Think south's the only way to go."

She considered that possibility for a moment. It was something she hadn't considered until now. But thinking back, it did seem like they encountered less of the dead during winter. Whether that was because they ventured outside of Haven only rarely, or if it had to do with the terrain being less traversable because of snow, Riley couldn't say. Perhaps it was a combination of the two. When Ethan mentioned government zones, something flashed before her mind's eye. It seemed like it was such a long time ago, not a handful of years.

He continued, his words almost making her shiver. Gruesome stories of cannibalism had started appearing in the years after the outbreaks, when food became more and more scarce and people became more and more desperate. "South it is." She eventually said and nodded. Twigs and leaves crunched underfoot and the wind was cold against her cheeks, but they found a pace that carried them forward with a rhythm that made her forget that. Riley constantly referenced the map she had in her head of the area, making sure they were headed in the right direction.

 

[ze_kraken]

​

The pair fell into amicable silence as they pressed on into the valley, keeping their footsteps light. It was quiet. The silence hung heavier than Ethan's pack, dragging his footsteps down and slowing his movements. Was this real? It felt like the world had ended once more, just like it had after Maryland.

How many had died then, he wondered as he kept pace with Riley. Will, Maggie, Tom, Eliza, all were likely dead or dying. Some had to have made it out, but Ethan knew better than to let the hope of others' survival sustain him. It was him, and Riley. That was all. If they found survivors, they found survivors. If not, that would be it for a while until they found the next community. Until he found another home to be overrun, either by the dead or the survivor - it made no difference to him. He wound up back on the road as he had before, and would likely do so again.

Only this time there was Riley. Ethan smirked to himself, in spite of all that happened. The pines around them reminded him of Riley's scent, and he spared her a sideways glance as they ventured through the woods. Self reliant, if a bit unskilled - but in his experience, skilled and unskilled did not matter in the end. Resourcefulness and drive was all that mattered, and he saw both in her.

Ethan averted his gaze as Riley cast a look back his way, fixating back on the pitch black woods. His eyes were keener now, able to cut through the dark unlike they had before. It was easier now, if not exactly ideal. For all he knew, a lurker or one of the men and woman that had razed Haven was waiting for them. Exhaustion from lack of proper sleep and carrying heavy gear did not help, nor did the rumbling in his stomach. Fortunately they were almost there now.

Coming upon a ridge overlooking the town, Ethan hunched and gestured for Riley to do the same. He peered out over the town and pointed out a building on the very fringe along the main road, pale grey slate standing out in stark contrast to the darkness of pre-dawn. Though he could spot orange trails of sunlight breaching the rim of the mountains above, it would be a few more hours yet until the darkness abated.

"That's the one," he muttered. "That's where we go."

 

[Morgan]

Their trek through the woods seemed to take forever. Even though she retreated into her own mind for long periods of time, it still seemed like time had slowed down. And it surprised her somewhat, as she was used to walking for long distances. Perhaps it was the fact that she was coming down from an adrenaline high and that the threat of death was constantly there, in the back of her mind. But the time spent in silence offered lots of opportunity to consider their situation and what to do next. Riley contemplated various ideas and routes for them to take, but she would have to reference a map before she could be sure of anything.

Eventually, they reached their destination. Dawn wasn't far off, but the rays of the sun did not yet have the strength to break the dark. Riley took a knee next to Ethan, her muscles appreciating the moment of rest, however brief. She found the building Ethan was talking about and nodded in agreement. It would be perfect for them to hole up for a while and get some rest. Riley adjusted the straps of her backpack and sighed. She was tired and weary. Physically and emotionally. She blinked a few times, looked down and then back up. Her eyes scanned the area, squinting in the dark. No sounds that were out of place caught her attention. There was nothing she could see that caused alarm either. They were so close.

"Let's go." She whispered and stood up. If she could stay focused for just a few moments now, they would make it inside and she could rest. She could sleep and forget for a while. Riley made a mental note of checking them both for injuries, before they nodded off, however. It wouldn't make sense for either of them to make it this far and go to sleep, only to wake with a fever or not wake up at all. Riley knew that her injuries were not serious, but she hadn't been able to see if Ethan was hurt in the dark. And stopping in the middle of the forest wasn't a good idea. Besides, he hadn't said anything. "Maybe use the crossbow? If we see any lurkers?" Riley was sure Ethan was way ahead of her when it came to which weapon to use.

She began descending the slope that led down toward the town. Her feet dug into the ground and carried her steadily down. If this was going to be their shelter for the night, she hoped with all her heart that the raiders that had destroyed Haven wouldn't follow them here. If this was something they had done before, they might be familiar with the area. "I can't wait to get my fucking boots off." She muttered slightly annoyed, though a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

 

[ze_kraken]

​

"Crossbow if needed, knives otherwise," Ethan agreed, adding. "'Bout time we dropped everything down, yeah."

He chuckled, though it rang hollow with exhaustion and defeat. The thought brushed his mind that they might have been tailed from Haven, but at this point he was too tired to care. Let them overtake him, kill him if they wanted. After hours of wandering stressed, afraid in the dark hefting a heavy load Ethan was in no state to protest, let alone defend himself. He noticed similar exhaustion in Riley, even if she had made light of wanting to get out of her boots.

The pair ventured onward down the slope and into the town below. Exhausted as they were, they made sure to keep alert for lurkers and other threats as the sun began to peak out and cast the hillside in a hazy orange glow. Though Ethan heard lurkers out and about in the town, the way to their mark was clear, and before long they had broken into what had might once been a standard townhouse through a gap in the planks barricading the window.

Once inside, Ethan hurried to fill in the gap with a rotting chair after setting his things down and gratefully rolling his shoulders. Though his burden was gone, his shoulders still hung heavy with loss as he maneuvered the chair into place. It would not hold to multiple lurkers, but it concealed movement and would at the very least notify them of a break-in. Immediate security rectified, Ethan pointed to the stairs.

"Upstairs," he muttered, weariness beginning to drag him into a reluctant state of sleepiness and complacence. "Safer there."

Upstairs was as empty and destitute as downstairs. Though the furniture had not been used to barricade in windows and doors like it had been, with the refrigerator having leaned up completely against the backdoor, it was no less decayed. Dust hung heavy in the air, and wood creaked beneath their feet seemingly no matter how lightly they walked.

Ethan passed two open doors to what had obviously once been children's rooms. One still had faded baby blue paint on the walls, now a dirty, muddy and dust-clouded blue sun-bleached in patches by years of exposure from the shattered window opposite the doorway. He shuddered, wondering who had leapt out or what had gotten in. There were no clothes in the open closet, and toys were scattered along the floor. Normally such a sight would have left Ethan unfazed, but now he swallowed back a hard lump in his throat. How many rooms in Haven would look like this soon, he wondered.

He continued down the hall of the second floor into what had been a master bedroom, laying his things by the doorway and checking the master bathroom with his knife ready. When no lurkers came, and no bodies lay decaying in the bathtub, Ethan collapsed up against the bed. The hurts from his clashes at Haven came back in full swing as he gazed down at the gash in his chest, smirking. The wound on his leg looked equally unhappy from its forced march. He gazed up at Riley, scoffing.

"Got caught a couple times," he said, nodding to his cuts and gashes. "How good are you with stitching needles?"

 

[Morgan]

​

The weariness she had felt moments prior was now momentarily relieved. As they entered the building, her heart began to beat harder in her chest. Inside, she tried to be as quiet as possible but the house was rotting and seemed to creak whatever they did. Riley's ears were listening for any movement that might not stem from them. It was extremely uncomfortable clearing buildings like this. She preferred using her knife as they went from room to room. The pistol was the only other option but it was too loud. Rifles and crossbows were to awkward, going into a room with. But as fate would have it, the house was completely clear and no lurker was waiting for them. It would seem they would have a roof over their heads for the night. Morning, she corrected herself. The sun was trying its best to cast its rays over the town and seemed to succeed in breaking through with every passing minute. ​

​

Riley followed Ethan and set her things down in the bedroom as well, placing her backpack on the bed. The covers were threadbare, dusty and smelly. But remarkably clean, she thought to herself. It didn't matter, though. They had their bedrolls. She tried not to think of the family that had lived her before. She too had noticed the color of the paint in some of the rooms. Riley closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to even consider the thought. She was fighting with all her might, not to let her emotions and weariness overtake her. Not now. ​

​

"Hmm?" Her head snapped to the right, fixing on Ethan as he sat up against the bed. Was he hurt? In two quick steps she was by his side, knelt down and looked at his wounds. Why hadn't she seen this before? Because it was dark. Why hadn't he said anything? But Riley knew the answer to that as well. She furrowed her brow in worry, a much more serious expression taking over her features now. Riley opened her backpack and rummaged through it. You'd think she was randomly groping for whatever she needed, but she knew exactly where she had put her first aid kit. She laid it down next to her and unclasped the lantern from the side of her pack as well. The room wasn't sufficiently lit by the sun yet. ​

​

Ethan looked tired. Just as tired as she was. Riley sighed and tugged at his clothes. "Off." She said. Her tone was commanding but gentle. She knew he was in pain. She helped him out of his jacket and shirt, deciding to begin with the wound on his chest. Once his upper body was bare, she stood, grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it behind him for comfort. Then she took her kneeling position in front of him again. Despite the chill in the air, her hands were warm. They weren't smooth. Riley made a face as she got a closer inspection of the wound, lighting the lantern and holding it up. She began cleaning it as gently as she could. "I don't have any whiskey for you. I don't have any painkillers." She used some of their precious water to wash out the wound and then wiped it with an alcohol swab. ​

​

She found a needle and thread in the first aid kit, threading it and then looked at Ethan. She put her hand on his chest, on the opposite side of where the wound was. "You're lucky I've done this several times before." She said, trying for a smile that only made it halfway onto her face. She resisted the urge to tell him it was going to hurt. It was going to hurt. But fortunately, the body had a way of numbing the areas around a wound after a while. Even so, it was still going to hurt. Riley brushed a strand of hair out of her face and took the needle to his skin. ​

​

When she had stitched the wound, the sun was breaking through with more light and provided enough light for her to see without the lantern. She was happy with her work. The stitches were neat. Her greatest concern was keeping the wound clean. She had done her best before stitching him, so now they had to keep checking it as they went. Ethan was tough and was handling it very well, circumstance considered. Riley tugged as his trousers, as she had done before and repeated. "Off." She blinked. "I'll be quick, I promise." ​

 

[ze_kraken]

​

"That's fine," Ethan said, wincing as the fabric brushed over the gash on his chest.

As a precaution, he grabbed his shirt and rolled it up, biting into it as Riley went about stitching the first wound shut. He fought the urge to squirm as her needled slipped in and out of the agitated skin lining the cut, biting into the rolled up shirt to avoid crying out and giving away their position. For a moment, all that could be heard was the din of lurkers outside and the rhythmic hither and dither of Riley's needle.

This injury was just one among many. Below the cut, running just below his collarbone, was a series of gunshot wounds of various sizes on his side. Just above his naval was a patch of bubbled scar tissue from a burn. His left shoulder was likewise dotted with two bullet hole scars.

Ethan had to admit Riley was right - she certainly had done this before. A shame, really, that few ever were injured badly enough in Haven for this sort of work. Not that he would know if Riley had been the one doing this behind the scenes, anyways. No, he told himself. He could not be thinking about Haven, about how he could have been more involved. That would only have hurt him more.

As the needle's bite gave way to more of an agitating itch partway through the process, Ethan relented his tug on his wadded shirt and glanced at Riley's hands. Though they were rough from work and travel, they were gentle, deft, and practiced. She still carried the scent of pine with her, though he chalked that up to their flight from Haven as much as anything else.

The cut stitched shut, Riley turned her attention to the injury on Ethan's calf. He complied, helping Riley remove his trousers without getting the trousers stuck to the bloody wound. Ethan avoided looking down at the gash as Riley stitched it for fear of what he might see - it had hurt the worst, and he had to keep his shirt tucked in his mouth the entire time as she worked. The pain throbbed through his leg, sending shocks tingling up his leg and spreading out of his chest. His free hand gripped the bed and he hissed into the shirt. Agonizing minutes passed and it was done. Ethan admired Riley's handiwork, smiling genuinely for what felt like the first time in days.

"Good to know I've got you," he said, rolling his ankle, wincing slightly at it agitated the injury, noticing her boots were still on and nodding to them. "Looks like I added a couple minutes 'til you could take those off, though."

 

[Morgan]

​

She wouldn't have made a very good nurse. Her needlework was decent enough, but she felt bad for inflicting pain on Ethan. Then again, there probably weren't very many nurses around now. But at the same time, Riley knew that she had to stitch him up. His wounds weren't just shallow cuts. They were bleeding and painful and if they weren't treated, they would cause them all sorts of trouble down the road. Ethan worked with her and the two of them managed to get his trousers off. She worked as quickly as she could on the wound on his calf and ended with a result she was even more pleased with. The stitches were better and she had managed to work a little bit faster, though this seemed more painful. It was a nasty cut and cleaning it had been troublesome in itself. ​

​

Riley was glad to see him smile. It wasn't something Ethan had done a whole lot of in the time she had known him. It was nice to see. She shrugged at his words, smiled and looked up at him for a brief moment. Her hand rummaged through the first aid kit and produced a roll of bandage. She started with the calf this time, lifting up his leg and applying a tight bandage around his calf. Riley finished with a knot, set his leg down again and took out another roll. She applied it to the wound on his chest, putting a few cloths on top of the wound, under the bandage, just to stop any blood that might seep through as he slept. They'd check on it in the morning. ​

​

This couldn't be the first time someone had to treat Ethan. Judging by the scars on his body, he had taken his fair share of injuries over the years. There were cuts, gunshot wounds, burns and more. Riley couldn't imagine the things he had gone through, but his scars told part of the tale. She rested her hands on her thighs, returning to her kneeling position in front of him. "Two more for the collection." Riley said jokingly, although it came out more emotionless than she had intended. "Now I'll take these off." She added and this time a little more emotion touched her facial expression. ​

​

The room was quiet for a moment. Thoughts and images came flooding back into her mind. Unwelcome horrors that threatened to overwhelm. She paused, felt something stinging her eyes and then hurriedly packed up the first aid kit and put it back in her backpack. Riley stood up, took the pack, put it at the foot of the bed and sat down on it, on the opposite side of Ethan. She undid the laces of her boots, kicked the off and wiggled her toes. She could feel and see her hands shaking. Her hair was hanging down around her shoulders; not up in the usual braid she wore. Riley's throat tightened, tears stung her eyes and she held her breath in an attempt to delay the inevitable. ​

​

For years, Haven had been her home. A sanctuary. A place of safety and comfort, despite the world having fallen apart around them. She had made a few friends and done what she could to help their small community prosper. People didn't kill each other and didn't steal. People in Haven had tried their hardest to make the world better, starting with their small enclave. The children. Oh, the children. Riley's hand went up to her mouth. She leaned forward, trembling. Her hands were shaking and tears spilled down her cheeks. They were all gone. All of them dead. Henry's lifeless body appeared in her mind. The sound he had made when the arrow had caught him in the throat. All of it came rushing back now and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Riley put her head in her hands, sucked in an unsteady breath and let go. She wept into her hands, trying to hide herself from Ethan. Hers was not a physical pain. Hers was a wound of the heart. A deep cut that bled and pained her and for now, she didn't know how to mend it. ​