Before Winter Comes [ze_kraken x Morgan]



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"I'm less worried about supplies," Ethan admitted as they walked, keeping to the side of the road where the trees provided them at least a base level of concealment. "Between you and me, we should be able to hunt. Safety's more important, and my bet is if we find a good spot out of the way might be we can wait out winter or plan where next we want to go. It's no Haven, but then two people shouldn't make so much noise to draw attention from unwanted eyes."

He scratched at his chin as he considered their options.

"Did you spot a lake or river anywhere?" He asked slowly, as if thinking each word as it left his lips. "Water's going to be tricky to come by, and it doesn't rain much here in the fall and winter. If we head that way, might be we find a good shelter with plenty of access to woods and water."

Riley pointed a spot out on their map, one within a day's march of their current location. It would carry them further south, towards a place called Burton Lake. He liked the sound of a lake - and a part of him recalled summers spent on the beach with his family as he thought of lounging out by the sun. Only, it was beginning to be autumn and soon would be winter.

And flesh-eating walking corpses, he told himself. Makes it hard to truly "lounge" doesn't it?

Still, a lake was their best bet. Haven had been blessed with plenty of wells around the town to pull groundwater from, but Ethan did not yearn for the days of joining townsfolk to fetch buckets of water and haul them back to town. A lake was simpler, and it was bound to house fish and draw in other wildlife they could hunt or trap. Ethan's vision swam with fragments of memories of his father taking him hunting back in Texas, and he nodded.

"That's the way we'll go," he said. "Might be we'll make something for ourselves there, for a little while anyways."

As confident Ethan was in their ability to carve out a small home, nothing was permanent when maintained by just two people. Sickness, random injuries, and other new-world dangers all made it crucial that more than just two people were on any task. They would need a community, one like Haven - with walls, and fighters, and scouts. But that would have to wait.

One day at a time, he told himself.

Letting Riley take point, Ethan followed her directions along the lonely forest road as the sun began to reach its peak overhead. The air was still chill, but the trees protected them from the bulk of the wind that came their way. With a proper shirt and jacket, Ethan felt comfortable and warm for the first time since taking to the road, even if his wounds had come to trouble him again. A week of minimal use and rest had done his injuries some good, but he reckoned they would haunt him for a good while longer yet.

Ethan took to watching Riley as she walked - her gait was confident, and he knew it was for having the destination ironclad in her mind. She was a good tracker and navigator, he had realized even with their minimal venture into Coker Creek what felt like a lifetime ago. In their week together, he'd found her optimism to be just short of infectious, and it was clear in the way she carried herself even now. As if she knew, beyond doubt, that what laid ahead was better than stood before them now. He envied her for that, if only slightly - whereas optimism had been a weakness for many Ethan had come to know, it seemed to be a crucial component of Riley's resilience.

The day progressed, and over an hour of marching along the lonely stretch of road, they came upon a fork. Ethan took the opportunity to drink from his canteen, looking to Riley.

"This way, right?" He asked, gesturing southwards with his free hand.


 
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She mirrored his actions, took out her own canteen and unscrewed the cap. The water inside was nice and cold and refreshing. They had set a good pace on the road, even though they had also talked about everything and nothing. It was nice that they were so relaxed around one another, since spending so much time in silence was both awkward and frustrating. Riley wondered if she would have felt the same way, had she been alone. Could loneliness drive anyone insane? If you were alone for long enough? Fortunately, those were questions she didn't need to find the answer to.
"That way." She said, pointing to the road leading in a south-western direction and paused her drinking. Looking along the road in either direction, she tried to gauge how far they would have to walk yet. They had made decent progress so far, and the rest of their walk to Burton Lake didn't seem insurmountable at all. They had come so far unmolested as well, having not seen or heard a walker and that was encouraging, though it wouldn't last forever. Riley took a few more sips and then screwed the cap back on, putting the canteen back in the pocket on the side of her pack.
Having spent a few hours walking in an area that had not been very densely populated, reminded her of many things. It reminded her of hikes with her family, fishing trips, camping trips, hunting trips and generally spending a lot of time in nature. So many good memories that now seemed a lifetime ago, though she was still young. Riley enjoyed the open space around them, the rustling leaves in the trees and the quietness. A quietness that normally unsettled her. But out here it didn't feel out of place. Out here, it was easy to forget that the world had almost ended. If she stood and focused and tried to forget, she could easily enough fool herself to think that the apocalypse had never happened and that this was just another rural, lightly trafficked area near the Appalachians.
"Hmm…" The sound escaped her though she had not intended it to. She was deep in thought and came back to the present, wondering if Ethan had said something she had not caught. Riley looked at him, but there was no trace of confusion or him waiting for an answer other than what she had already given. "Shall we?" Riley began walking but turned after a few steps, facing him and walking backwards. "It should only take us about an hour to get there." Her voice was encouraging and with renewed energy, she led them onward again.
The road took them past fields where crops had grown years ago. They still did, in fact, they were just not tended to, harvested or maintained in any way. So there grew weeds and other plants as well, and it all looked wild and overgrown. Still, it was clear that farmers had once driven their large machines through these fields to make their living. They hadn't for some years now. They came after a while to an intersection were she guided them left, south. The scenery continued in much the same fashion and before they knew it, they came to another intersection where there stood an old, rusted sign. Riley stopped before it and smiled, looking up at Ethan.
"Burton Lake Road." She said, nodding. "Not much longer." Again she set one foot in front of the other and turned down the road, eager to get to their destination. But her pace was a little slower now. It was due in part to carefulness. There were trees on both sides of the road and it was hard to tell if something moved between them. They would have to be alert. It was also because they had spent a week in a house, so walking for this long was felt in her legs. Riley was stubborn, however and would go on until she collapsed to reach her destination, if she had to. But that wasn't the case. They were nearly there, surprising as it was. The hours they had spent on the road seemed to have gone by faster than she would have expected. But perhaps that was a good thing.
 


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Ethan could smell the lake before he saw it - the scent of damp air carried aloft along a soft breeze met his nostrils before Riley had even pointed out the sign marking their arrival at the lake road. The air clung heavy with moisture here, and though Ethan was sure they were too far from the lake for it to be little more than a trick of the mind, he swore he could hear water faintly rippling and crashing along the shore. How had it been that such a place had been within a 3 day hike of Haven and he had never noticed? Then again, he had not even bothered to consider where Haven was in the first place - he supposed the grand scale map of the country mattered not when, at least in his eyes, there was no more country.

Their proximity to a lake became evident as Ethan gazed around - sparse cabins and run-down huts had given way to the ruins of once-elaborate lake houses and a handful of shops. The return to society's former trappings carried with it an unspoken tension and danger, and swiftly Ethan and Riley found themselves sticking more diligently to cover provided by rusted-out cars and debris piles. The wind whistled through the empty streets hauntingly, carrying with it scraps of fallen leaves and dust from the piles of rubble where houses had partially collapsed or been destroyed.

The wind carried, too, the grunts and gurgles and groans of lurkers.

Within an instant, Ethan's knife was out and clutched steadily in his right hand, blade flat against his wrist. It had been foolish of him to lull himself into the belief that not only would they find a safe house on par with Haven, but that it would also be devoid of hostile life as well. His vision sharper now in part due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Ethan could spot them up ahead along the main road. Six by his count - enough to dispatch safely, even from their distance, but he knew not of potential ones behind them or along the buildings they stood beside. Better to go around.

Wordlessly, the pair ventured off the main road and along one of the side roads that split off into the various streets and driveways of lake houses. Here, too, lurkers crept along the streets - but there were less of them, and these appeared to be more sluggish. Soon they would be sleepers, Ethan wagered - might be it had been the promise of food by the lake that brought the lurkers, but wild life had adapted to the undead threat and knew to avoid them as much as humans did. Without food, lurkers were prone to a life of sleeping until food presented itself once more or they gradually starved to a proper death over weeks and months and sometimes years.

It was not difficult to ease past what patches of lurkers they encountered, so long as they stuck to the soft grass, kept their footprints quiet, and stayed out of direct line of sight of the lurkers when possible. Daylight was swiftly vanishing, and before long Ethan and Riley had found a house overlooking the lake along a soft incline. It had been deceivingly far, and by the time they arrived, winded, at the top of the rise upon which it stood the sun was beginning to vanish entirely behind the horizon.

The house was forested and in good condition - its windows were mostly intact, though the wood had begun to rot and vines grew through its siding. It stood upon a plain stone foundation, and a rotting deck jutted out along the cliff where once there might have been an umbrella and table but now was just a lonely cooler and plastic folding chair so badly sunbleached it looked white.

Adopting the stance Ethan and Riley had so many times in the previous town, the two headed inside and cleared the house. There had been no dead, and the house boasted a handful of supplies: some dried food goods, a couple of tools, some clothes, and even a pair of fishing rods. Ethan wondered uneasily if they had stumbled upon someone's current domicile, but as Riley had deftly pointed out there had been no way things so coated in dust could have been used frequently. Ethan supposed she had been right - he had certainly hoped whoever would have been living there would sleep in the bed and not leave it inert and covered in a thick film of dust.

Leaving Riley to situate their belongings in the master bedroom on the second floor, Ethan set about fortifying the lake house's meager enough barricades along its windows with spare planks they had found and bits of furniture they knew neither of them would use such as spare dining room chairs, armchairs, and dressers. It was demanding work, especially on sore and tired muscles, but it was done just as the sun was finishing its descent into the mountains beyond.

Satisfied, Ethan returned to Riley upstairs and seated himself cross-legged on the floor, fishing through his pack for their dinner.

"Dried beans or canned fruit?" Ethan asked, glancing up at Riley. "I'm hoping tomorrow we can fish or hunt."


 
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The presence of the living dead was made evident rather quickly as they approached the lake. Though the past few hours had been spent without much nervousness and anxiety, those now familiar feelings bubbled in her heart. Riley did as she had tried to teach herself, and turned those feelings into focus and determination. Over the past week, she had become better and better at controlling her emotions. Especially around the walking dead. Her heart still pumped out adrenaline and it still felt as if it was going to beat through her chest, but her mind was still in control and she felt focused and hyper-aware. She had wondered if this had put Ethan at ease as well, as he would no doubt have noted her nervous demeanor days ago. It must be nice for him to know that his companion was now less likely to shoot h herself - or him - rather than a walker or a lurker. Even though it had only been about a week back at their shelter, Riley felt that she had learned a lot. She was very focused on helping Ethan where and when she could. That way they would have an easier time surviving in the wild. The last thing she wanted was to be a nuisance and a hindrance, but her mind had changed about that during the past few days as well. Whether it was Ethan's encouragement or not, she couldn't tell, but something inside her felt more confident by the day.
Their decision at first to not disturb the six lurkers sat well with Riley. There was no point drawing attention to themselves when there was a chance to avoid it. Besides, during the past week they had come into close contact with them and it had been nothing short of terrifying. Riley was still haunted by the snapping sounds of an attacking lurker inches from her face, biting away in an effort to get at her flesh. And their decision proved wise. There were more the further along the road they went. Whether they were the rotting husks of past denizens of the area around the lake, she could not say and neither did she care. Or at least, she tried not to. They were not as active it seemed, and it proved easier than she had first thought to sneak past them.
The only thing that made it clear to her that their sneaking past the dead had taken so long, was the fact that the sun was descending on the horizon. It surprised her, yet she was less tired than she would have thought. And in the dark and the stress they endured, she did not at all notice how beautiful the house they had found was. It overlooked the lake and looked exactly like the type of house Riley would have dreamed of before all of this. But all of this went over her head, as she was focused on staying quiet and preparing to enter the house with Ethan. They had done this so many times now that they automatically fell into step and position. It was as if they had both found an unspoken rhythm to this maneuver and neither needed say a word. Ethan approached the door, Riley fell in behind him and in they went.
But there were no dead. No rotting corpses to assail them. No clattering of teeth and no gurgling sounds to let them know that the dead were here. This house was clear. And on top of that, they had found edibles and other useful items. Once the house was secured, Ethan had joined her. She had placed their backpacks at the foot of the bed, ready for them if they needed to leave in a hurry. It was darkening and so she had lit a lamp to offer a little light. Perhaps in the morning, they could gather wood and light a fire in the fireplace downstairs. Riley had a mind to dip her toes in the water of the lake, should it be safe enough. In fact, she wanted most of all to throw herself headlong into the water and let the grime and sweat of the past few days be washed off. But that would have to wait.
"Dried fruit, please." Riley said and nodded. Something sweet would be nice, especially after a day of walking. She thought about hunting and fishing then. Either sounded wonderful. Whether it be deer or fish, meat would be a welcome change to their diet. "Don't even talk about it. If we can catch a fish tomorrow…" She trailed off, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as if to say that was the most divine meal she could think of. She dared not think they could track a deer. That would almost be too good. "How are you holding up?" Riley then asked, attempting to distract herself from the thought of proper food. Ethan had seemed to handle himself well on the road, even though his wounds were not that old. he was tough and determined, she had known that from early on, but he surprised her nonetheless. "Need me to check on them again?"
 


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Ethan fished two cans of fruit medley from his backpack and set about cracking them open with his knife blade, sending goose prickles up his arms at the combination of friction and the hideous sound of metal scraping metal. He passed one of the cans to Riley and brought a spoon from his pack to his own can's contents, taking a spoon loaded with bitter cherry and sweet peach to his mouth. They were fortunate, he supposed, that most canned food still had a year or two of life left in them before rotting away in their own cans. He could not remember the last time he had eaten proper fruit - processed or otherwise. He had never been a fan of the canned assortments, but the sweetness provided a comforting relief in a way few other food did.

Once the fruit was finished, Ethan slurped down the sugary water it had come in. It was refreshing, if not exactly chilled as he might have been used to before things liked fruit in cans were valuable. The watery mixture eased the headache that had been building up behind his eyes, and Ethan let loose a day's worth of tension and stiff muscles as he laid back on the floor and stretched out with a series of popping joints.

"How are you holding up? Need me to check them again?" Riley asked.

"I'm tired," Ethan admitted. "And a bit sore, but I'm fine - and no, they seem fine for now."

His tone was more earnest than it had been in their prior conversations, and Ethan smirked to himself as he gazed up at the ceiling as he reflected on what a difference a week with Riley had already made. Though he supposed devoid of all other routine and human connection besides her, it was expected he would look to distract himself and grow more comfortable with her quickly. What else was there to do? The thought of traveling with a stranger silently was as unpleasant as the thought of traveling alone.

Rising back into a seated position, Ethan scraped down what little sugar water was left in the can with his spoon as Riley continued to eat from her own can. The two fell into a comfortable, amicable silence as they finished, neither disrupting the peace. By some unspoken agreement, the two went about prepping for bed. Back in the town they had just come from they had, after Riley's first insistence, come to share the bed. Each had slept on either end, and this night was no different as Ethan kicked off his boots and laid back against the collapsed mattress. It had been more comfortable than the one they had slept upon the night before, but he still yearned for his old bed in Haven.

Ethan cast a glance at Riley just in time to see her undo the braids on her hair, averting his gaze before she could catch him in the act. He cleared his throat softly.

"Good night, Riley."


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When morning came, Ethan stirred to the first traces of sunlight piercing through the blinds of the window to the second-floor bedroom. He lurched upright, clutching his head for a moment as pains of agony swept through it and his hands trembled. He could feel that forceful hand pushing him to smoke a cigarette he knew was nowhere to be found and for a moment Ethan wrestled with the temptation and the splitting pain, distracting himself by fetching water from his canteen and drinking it. It helped dull the pain, but did nothing for the craving.

It lasted a day comfortably, Ethan supposed as he roused himself to his feet, letting Riley capture what extra sleep she could. He left the bedside lamp turned on its side - the code he and Riley had developed for when one awoke before the other to avoid alarm being raised when the other was absent in the morning - and crept downstairs. It felt odd being in a house seemingly so untouched and yet still standing within dangerous territory. He half expected to come downstairs to the hustle of Haven life and glimpse its wall outside the living room window. Instead he was greeted with an air that was simultaneously dusty and damp, and boards upon the windows.

Ethan sighed softly, downing more water from his canteen before setting about retrieving the fishing rods from the storage closet he had found them in. They would require a bit of tuning - some of the lines were loose, and the gear mechanisms could use tightening. He seated himself at the dining room table upon one of the two chairs Ethan and Riley had left for themselves and began fiddling with the rods until he heard the familiar weight and frequency of Riley's footfalls emerging from the staircase.

"Good morning," he said, setting aside the fishing rods to look her over with a slight smile. "How'd you sleep?"


 
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She had slept better than she thought she would have. The bed was better here, than it had been at their previous shelter. Riley was also glad that Ethan had not protested and had shared the bed with her. Though she was hesitant to admit it, there was a comfort in having him next to her. Whether it was just the knowledge that he was there, or if it was the sound of his breathing and the way she could feel he was lying on the other side of the bed, she was not sure. Whatever it was, it brought a sense of comfort and security.
Riley woke up and found herself alone, however. This was something that happened often. And being a person who was used to getting up and starting her day early, this bothered her. Not to the point of her being annoyed for the morning, but it poked at some small and perhaps competitive aspect of her nature. She sat up and brushed her hair back, shaking her head at herself. Her fingers grabbed a handful of brown locks and she put it to her face and sniffed. It smelled of a mixture of sweat and dust - probably from the bed. But it also smelled faintly of pine needles. At Haven she had often washed her hair in water infused with that exactly. It was the closest thing she had to perfume.
Now, they were on the road and it had been a long time since either of them had had a chance to wash themselves. But here, at the lake there was a chance to rectify that. Something she looked forward to, if they could manage to do so safely. But that would come later. First things first. Riley swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She still slept in enough clothes that she was ready to make a run for it, should they need to. That meant she wore pants, socks and her t-shirt. All of which needed to be washed as well. She frowned and sighed, moved toward the door.
"Good morning." She replied and changed her frowning face to a smiling one. The sunlight shone through where it could and caught her face. In the brief moment before she shielded her face and moved out of the light, her eyes were a vivid brown color. Despite their journey and a few cuts and bruises, Riley looked well-rested and pleased. Something she would not have thought she would if you had asked her some days ago. But things had changed for the better. She approached Ethan at the dining table and looked the fishing rods over. "Do they work?" A fishing rod seemed to her a relatively simple device, but as with everything else, wear and tear could take its toll. It had been years since Riley had last fished. The idea of getting the chance again excited her. There was the constant worry of the surrounding danger that nagged at her, but they had to find a way somehow.
She sat down in the other chair and leaned her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand. For a while she inspected the fishing rods and then moved to watch Ethan. If the two of them could catch fish and cook, it would not only fill their stomachs but it would also extend the life of their already packed supplies, most of which would last them much longer than a fish from the lake. "Do you think we'll be able to get to the water safely? Or will we have to find a boat?" Whether Ethan had any insight on this, she didn't know but she wanted to know his thoughts. Riley had wondered if it was safer if they could out onto the lake itself. "Can they swim?" She suddenly wondered aloud, palms falling to the table top, one eyebrow cocked and her expression curious. That might prove an important bit of knowledge for later. Riley didn't know how the dead fared in deep water.
 


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"Well, hopefully they'll work soon," Ethan said neutrally. "They probably would have serviced us fine enough, but I'm not sure I want to put our food supply on the line with bad equipment. Besides, what am I supposed to do with someone who loves sleeping in?"

He flashed Riley a well-intended, rueful smile. He could not have been awake before her by longer than ten or fifteen minutes, but they had almost made a game of who could wake up first. Ethan had noted a little reluctance at Riley to accept it as just a bit of good fun, but then he had more than his fair share of demons to point it out and hurt her over it. That did not mean, though, that he was not going to tease her every so slightly for it until she raised an objection.

"We may need a boat," he agreed. "I don't know as I've ever seen one of them swim, but I imagine they'd be pretty bad at it in deep water. Might be we'll have to go in pairs for safety at first - there aren't a lot of lurkers around town that I saw, but we didn't see much of it and I'm not sure we'd be able to fend them off with just hand weapons if they get up the hill to the house. And well, I heard about a couple of soldiers in the camp at Maryland about how this one team fired off their rifle at some of them and a few days later there was this big hoard that came drawn to the noise."

A distant memory of a time when news broadcasts were still common brought itself to the forefront of Ethan's mind, something about how ship harbors had been plagued by the dead and people had tried to swim to salvation on the departing ships and brought down below. It was hazy, though, and he wagered so long as the pair had been as careful as they had been there would be little cause for concern. Besides, the prospect of a belly full of warm fish and whatever else they could scrounge around for was too tempting a prospect to let the risk of lurkers deter him. Lurkers were always a risk, and Ethan had long since come to learn that acting with the risk of lurkers was just a mundane reality.

"I think we should get this place touched up, start maybe stockpiling food we catch from the lake before we look into that town square we passed on the way up," Ethan said after a lapse in their conversation. "Might be we won't stay here forever, but it's as good a place as any to try and stick out the winter."

Even as he said the words, he found himself questioning his own plans. He and Riley had not discussed much, if anything, of what their plan was in the last week other than survive and maybe find a spot to last out the winter. Theirs was almost a pact made of convenience and proximity, he thought - only, he was not entirely sure he could go without Riley, whatever her own objective was in all this.

"And," he added, slowly. "Could be we start clearing out the dead in bits and pieces 'til it's safe to go about more or less untouched."

And make a new Haven not even one hundred miles from the old one, he thought, but left unsaid. He did not know if they would survive the week, let alone the likely months and years of work it would take - surviving winter aside.

Rather than force the conversation to what their plans for the long-haul were, Ethan finished prodding with his fishing rod and gestured to the deck.

"Might be we can spot a good place to fish from the deck and get to it?" He asked, seeking Riley's opinion.


 
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She gave him a look of mock disbelief and offense. It had caught her completely off guard, but that made it all the more amusing. Over the past few days, little jests and jabs like these became slowly more common between the two of them. It was part of what made her so pleased with having Ethan as her partner. It was also those little things that made it all bearable. Still, she had not expected his little joke and if she could, she wouldn't let him get away with it. But it was still early and Riley struggled for a comeback. Instead she just watched him for a few seconds and then shook her head. "I'd punch you if you weren't injured, y'know?" She finally said and then a wide smile found its way onto her face. But something curious occured to her in that moment. Riley realized that rather than punch him she wanted to hug him. For making her smile.
Her eyes moved from his face to his hands as he spoke and they worked at the fishing rods. There was something calming about watching him work and listen to him at the same time. But what he said brought a little discomfort, though RIley was quick to remind herself that she was worrying over nothing. A horde sounded terrifying, however. Something they would have no chance of surviving. So perhaps firearms were a no go. That meant their crossbows and their knives would have to serve them. Riley was not keen on getting too close to the dead if she could avoid it, but if that was the price of making a temporary safe place, then that was what she would have to do. While she didn't like the thought of it, she had grown a little more used to the idea. Over the past week, they had cleared so many houses that she had come to expect a lurker around every corner, most of the time. Riley nodded, silently agreeing. That was one objective on their list: a boat.
The thought of living here for a good while caused excitement to flutter in her chest. The house was comfortable enough and there was plenty of room for the two of them. It had a fireplace and a kitchen that could be cleaned to serve them well enough. It had a dining table and even a couch and a coffee table. Before all of this, it must have been a wonderful summer retreat, Riley thought to herself absentmindedly.
"Yeah, with a bit of elbow grease we'll get far." She said to Ethan and nodded. She hadn't dared thinking that they might be able to stay here for winter, but she was happy to hear him suggest the very thought. They had everything they needed when it came to shelter. The cold wouldn't be a problem in this house. But could they really be so lucky? Something flashed over Riley's face. Sorrow. She looked away for a moment and then forced a smile that became genuine enough, after a moment.
Riley then stood and nodded. "Let's." She said simply and took a fishing rod for herself. She had not fished for years. At Haven, her means of catching prey were traps and hunting with a bow and arrow. With proper guidance, however, she was sure they would be rewarded. "Did you fish a lot, before?" She suddenly asked. She could not remember if Ethan had told her, back when she had tended his wounds and he had told her about life before Haven. As she recalled that night, she went to the door and waited for him. When they were both ready, she opened it and went outside. The air was cool and fresh and lovely. Riley took a deep breath and slowly let it out. If they were to stay here, she would have to remind herself that they were still in danger. Riley got the feeling that it might be easy to forget here.
 


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"Not particularly," Ethan replied as he basked in the chilled foggy morning. "My dad was more into hunting, so I went with him on hunting trips about once a month or so while I was growing up. I picked up a couple basics along the road to Maryland, but I'm not any good at it so I was hoping you might have been, otherwise we're in for an interesting few weeks while we learn."

He cast Riley a sideways glance and a grin as they surveyed the landscape. The shore of the lake was covered in trees as far as the eye could see, their house being one of a handful poking out along the forested peripherals of the lake. The trees formed a sea of red, orange, and yellow foliage interspersed with the faded greens of stubborn summer leaves and rich achromatic emerald of pine. He could imagine boats running along the lake once, and from their vantage point Ethan could even spot a rotted husk of a small fishing boat moored along the shore. It would be of little use to them, and Ethan wondered how good with her hands Riley was in making them a boat or raft in the coming weeks.

There was an inlet not too far from the house, a slight rise overlooking it with trees to its pack and a clearing at its tip overlooking the inlet that would suit their purposes well. Ethan gently nudged Riley, pointing to the inlet.

"That looks like it might be the one," he said softly, not wanting his voice to carry to unwanted ears below. "You can do whatever you need to do in the inlet below, and I can stand watch and fish from up there."

The pair prepared the gear they would need for their outing. Ethan clutched both fishing rods in one hand, leaving the crossbow with Riley. Each of them carried their handguns in case they needed them, their knives as well, and one of their two packs. They left the house quietly out a side door after clearing its barricade, making their way to and along the coast until they reached the inlet. Ethan found a comfortable enough rock atop the rise to sit upon and began setting up the fishing rod, leaving Riley with one of the rods.

"I'll let you do what you need," he said, nodding to the rock atop the rise. "I'll be up here trying to get some fish from the main body of the lake, give me a shout if you need anything alright?"


 
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"Alright." Riley said and nodded. The morning was quiet and she hoped with all of her being that they wouldn't suddenly hear a lurker somewhere, making its disgusting, gurgling, snapping sounds. Riley had brought with her a towel she had found in the house. It smelled dusty but otherwise was fine. She had no spare pants yet, but had found a black long sleeve that would serve her well in the coming months. She had fresh socks as well, so looking forward to bathing, she hurried to the water in the inlet.
When she had reached it, she listened for a while. The water made pleasant, soft sounds as it lapped gently at the sand. There were trees around it and it felt hidden, though not entirely safe. Not yet, anyway. Riley set her backpack down, which she had brought to carry her shirt, towel, socks and more. She set the crossbow down safely and opened the back, fishing out the things she needed. Then she sat down, took off her boots and her socks and then her jacket and her shirt. The air was cool and sent goosebumps over her skin, but it was the most gentle touch she had experienced in a long time.
Sticking her feet in the water, she gave a pleased sigh and smiled a little. It was cool, yes, but not too bad. Riley washed her feet and massaged them a little. Then she looked behind her up toward Ethan and hesitated. Perhaps when they had cleared a little more of the area, she could bathe properly and wash all her clothes and all of herself. Though she wasn't a particularly shy person, she would spare them both the awkwardness of disrobing entirely, for the time being. For now she settled for washing her face and her hair and her upper body and her feet. The feeling was nothing short of divine, she thought to herself. Splashing a few handfuls of water into her face, she brought her old shirt and her socks down to the water and soaked them, wringing them out a couple of times. If they were to stay here a while, she'd have to gather some pine needles for washing their clothes and washing her hair.
Fingers traced over sun-kissed skin in the morning light and Riley forgot for a moment, the troubles of recent days. She massaged knots in her neck and looked down at herself. She had not lost much weight, it seemed, but she was already lean and light before Haven fell. She could still see and feel muscles as she ran a hand over her abdomen. On her right side ran a scar about four inches in length, though it had healed nicely to a thin white line now. Just below her collarbone on her left side, ran another one that was nearly identical. Riley touched both of them and sighed. Old injuries. A gentle wind reminded her to finish up and get back to Ethan. Riley took her towel and dried herself off, wrung out the last lake water from her socks and her old shirt and put on dry socks and her newly found long-sleeve. It fit her well and hugged her tightly. With her leather jacket over, she would stay warm for now. She was saving the one Ethan had found for her, until it got colder. She wouldn't risk using it now, in case something happened to it.
Stuffing her things back in her pack, Riley swung it onto her shoulder and picked up crossbow and fishing rod. Making her way back to Ethan, she felt both more awake and in a good mood. She was hungry, however and hoped they would be lucky enough to catch fish for breakfast. When she spotted him, she smiled and set her things down on the ground. "If you want to wash up as well, I can keep watch." She offered, fiddling with her fishing rod. It had been a long time since she had fished, but memories brought forgotten knowledge with them and soon she was able to cast a line. "Bet you I'll catch the biggest fucking fish you've ever seen. That'll teach you to never say that I like to sleep in." Riley's voice was low but her tone was challenging but also happy and joking.
 


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Ethan sat atop the rock on the rise, line cast into the waiting waters below. He supposed he had never heard or seen someone fish so high up, but he estimated the rise to only be three or four feet above the water and the line still had enough give when he cast it out. With no bait, he had been forced to dig around in the dirt by his feet for a handful of earthworms he put into an empty tin can from his pack. The line bobbed up and down in the water, and a gentle breeze ruffled the surface of the water in passes. The noise barely rubbed against Ethan's ears, lost to the general din of chirping birds and branches swaying and crackling.

More pronounced than the whisper of the wind were Riley's footsteps below, soft and measured in the sand below. Were he not focusing on the ruffle of her feet in the sand in that moment, Ethan might have let Riley fade into the quiet humdrum around him as well. He averted his gaze as he saw her begin to pull at the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head: they had spent every minute of every day together for the past week and a half, he could grant her that privacy at least. Still, he caught a glimpse of her figure - hard and sinewy, a handful of scars running along her sun-stained skin.

Suddenly the woman uneasily brandishing a handgun in Ethan's face was replaced with the burned image of a scarred survivor. Ever since their time in Coker Creek, he had found her to be more than capable in ways that her inexperience with firearms muddled or concealed. But seeing those scars reminded him that she had survived same as him, and a pang of guilt ran through him for not realizing that sooner when the truth had been written clear in her actions and not just in the scars along her skin. He would ask her about her own story tonight over food, he resolved as he felt a tug at his line that jerked him from thoughts of Riley to the tantalizing prospect of warm food.

Attention snapped to the reel bobbing in the water and hands followed, tugging the fishing rod up and beginning to wheel about the crank to pull the line in. Seconds dragged by, Ethan coaxing the hook closer and closer until the surface of the water broke and a fish hung flapping and swinging in the air, hook piercing through its lips. Glancing around for a good place to set the fish aside, Ethan grunted and resorted to laying the fish atop a small rock on the ground by his foot: they likely would have to wash it again anyways. As he fixed another bit of bait to the hook, Ethan admired his catch. It was small, likely little more after gutting for one of them, but a little more than a few days ago Ethan would have given a kidney for something half so filling.

The second fish to grab at Ethan's line managed to get away, and before he could go about readjusting and trying again. Before he could he heard the soft rustling of footsteps brushing against grass, ones not trying to make themselves concealed. He jolted and looked over his shoulder, ready to grab his knife in case it was a lurker. Only, it was the possible greatest alternative to a lurker: Riley. Berating himself for being so careless even as he smiled to Riley, Ethan stood and left the rock for her.

"If you manage to get one bigger than that," Ethan gestured to the small fish that had long-since ceased flapping by where he had been sitting. "I'll never complain about your sleeping habits again."

The prospect of taking a soak in the lake was tempting, and Ethan almost glanced to Riley as if leaving her on her own up here was to leave her in danger. Only, those scars flashed before his eyes and he knew she would be more than capable of fending for herself until he managed his way back up to the rise.

"That sounds good," he said. "I'll be back up in a bit, you best have caught us a fish this big."

Ethan stretched out his arms as wide as they could go, eyes flickering with amusement as he left Riley with the gear atop the hill and made his way down to the shore by the inlet. The water stretched about twice as wide as Ethan was tall, sloshing over pale grey rocky sand. The water itself was clearer than any water he had seen before the fall, so much so that he was surprised to find the water give way when he reached out and touched it. Cold droplets clung to his fingers, and Ethan relished in their icy wet touch. He rubbed the drops between his fingers and recalled a stranger's memories of summer pool parties and trips to the beach, and without thought or direction Ethan stripped off his shirt and jacket and rolled the hem of his pants as he meandered aimlessly into the water.

At first it was overwhelmingly cold, sending burning tingles up his legs and then through his chest. His arm hair bristled, and he involuntarily shuddered as he descended into the water further. Before long he hovered in place where the water was deep enough such that he could float, but not so deep that when he planted the tips of his toes he risked slipping under. There he drifted for a moment, carried along by the gentle ebb and flow of the lake's waters, arms outstretched and eyes shut. He felt at peace. No, not at peace. His mind felt as numb as his body did from the cold, and before long Ethan forgot about himself and the world and Riley and the need to smoke. There was a vessel adrift in the lake, aware of only the loosening of its grip on the sensation of stinging cold.

The absence of the vessel's inhabitant was interrupted as Riley exclaimed with excitement and Ethan returned to the world, momentarily panicked in equal parts for Riley's safety and his own lapse in awareness. He glanced up to see Riley excitedly standing with a fish on her line and ducked his head beneath the water, gasping as he broke back out over the water's surface. He made his way back to the shore and dried off for a moment before redressing.

The water had been cold, but the air was colder as Ethan made his way up the rise overlooking the inlet. His arm hairs still sat in straight, tense points and gooseskin prickled out over his flesh. Whereas the breeze atop the rise had been pleasant just minutes ago, now it was nothing short of agonizing. His hair dripped with water still clinging from his brief dive, and his shirt was rung through with damp patches from where water had begun to drip from his head.

"Looks like you outdid me after all, then," Ethan said with a wry smile, admiring Riley's catch. "Let's see if we can't get some repeat luck going, huh?"


 
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She had stolen glances at him, as he lay there in the water. Riley had seen his scarred skin before, but still she found that her eyes lingered on him for a moment. Ethan had done battle against the world for some years now and it showed. Past wounds from his many trials told a tale, one that he had told back at their first shelter. It was a harsh world but the two of them were resilient and strong and perhaps most importantly, stubborn. In the water he looked to feel much like she had herself. It was as if the water had a calming, cleansing effect even though it was cold. Riley had come out feeling much better than before. Almost as if some of her worries had been washed away. They had made it this far, and that had to count for something. With each day, Riley became more hopeful for their future. They worked well together, but that had been made clear already after Coker Creek. It was more than that, though. It was as if they slowly reached a sort of unspoken understanding of each other, which was impressive considering how short a time they had traveled together. Though, under conditions such as their's, you quickly got to know each other.
Something nibbled at her line and Riley fixed her gaze on the water. There it was again. She readied herself, tugged gently at the rod to make the hooked work move under the surface. A second later something bit and instantly pulled at the rod. Riley's heart beat faster and she smiled. It was stronger than she had expected, but she managed to keep it on the hook. The fish pulled and pulled, Riley wheeled in the line, let it go for a second and then wheeled it in some more to tire the fish. A faint memory of her father teaching her this when she was very young, entered her mind. But that was a long time ago and now she was on her own, though his advice seemed to work. It was not a long struggle and soon she was able to drag the fish out of the water.
"You're damn right." Riley said with excitement, though still keeping her voice at a reasonable level. She held up the fish to show him, clearly quite proud of her achievement. She grinned and let out a musical laugh. She felt as if she was a child again, very happy and very pleased with her catch. But perhaps there was more to it. The thought of a fresh meal made her stomach rumble. The thought of warm food and a fire in the fireplace almost sounded too good to be true, yet it wasn't. It was within their reach, right behind them at the lake house. She took the fish off the hook, laid it down besides the one Ethan had caught and turned to face him. Riley then set down her fishing rod and reached into her pack and pulled out the towel she had used and held it out to him. His hair was dripping and she knew it was cold, especially where the wind brushed your skin. Her hair was considerably longer than his and would take a while to dry, anyway, so he might as well use it for his.
"How was it?" She asked him. "Good, huh?" She smiled. The fish she had caught flapped once on the ground and Riley's eyes snapped to it. No more twitching came and she relaxed. Now that they had caught their food, she was not prepared to see it disappear back into the water again. Her stomach growled once more and her hand went to rest on it. Looking back at Ethan she smiled and let her hand fall. "You look almost like a new man." She tilted her head to the side and shrugged. "Almost."
 


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"Almost huh?" Ethan said, chuckling softly as one hand scratched at his chin as he accepted the towel from Riley.

In their week away from Haven, he had let his beard begin to grow out and stiff stubble had now started to line his cheeks. He ran the towel through his mangled hair to dry it before combing his fingers through it to coax it back into place. Still it fell limply around his face, framing it in dark brown locks as leftover moisture dragged it down. For a moment he and Riley were just two people out on a fishing trip or a day out on the lake, but that fantasy faded as briefly as it had come as Ethan spotted the rotted ship off in the distance and he was reminded that lurkers still roamed the woods around them.

Ethan gauged the position of the sun up above and estimated it to be around noon, which left them a little over five hours of daylight to use. They settled down on the rise together, continuing their fishing contest as the hours passed, exchanging idle chatter as they went. Riley had proven to be the far better fisher of the two, and Ethan found his attention drifting to her whenever she landed a bite to see if he could learn the subtle tricks to her technique. Her movements spoke of years of practice, and Ethan wondered if there would ever come a day along this lake where he, too, would come to be as skilled.

Their fishing was cut short when a handful of lurkers came within earshot, and they returned to the house just as the sun was beginning to set. Their haul for the day was five fish, four of which had been bagged by Riley. Once they returned to the house, Ethan reestablished the barricades behind them and went about lighting a fire in the fireplace. Once that was finished, he made a makeshift cooking spit out of a pan they had found in the kitchen and a handful of twigs tied together. Before long, the sizzling fish began to fill the house with their scent. It brought Ethan warmth and comfort as it wafted through the living room, and he felt his empty stomach grumbling as the fish cooked.

With plates in hand, topped with a sizable portion of cooked fish - less than Ethan had liked, but his skills at gutting fish were rusted - Ethan approached the dining room table and laid a plate by Riley and seated himself in the empty chair opposite her. Though they lacked seasoning, the fish was delicious and filling. Before long, and without intending, Ethan had cleared his plate and pushed it aside, brushing his mouth with his sleeve for lack of something better to use.

"So," he said, softly for fear that his voice might fall upon unwanted ears despite their isolation. "You know my story, but I wanted to hear yours. How did it come to be that it was Riley..."

He smiled ruefully, realizing he did not know her last name.

"...came to be the first person I met at Haven?"


 
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She had been watching the fire, enjoying the smell of cooked fish and the warmth of the flames. There was something so comforting about a live fire and the fact that they were indoors, not freezing and with a roof over their heads. When they came back, she had even tried cleaning the kitchen a little bit and tried to make it a little more usable and tidy. By the time she was done, it could almost pass for a normal kitchen in a normal world in a normal lake house. Riley had found that little things like that made the days brighter for her. Besides, if they were to stay here a while, they might as well fix up the house as best they could.
When Ethan set down a plate in front of her, she looked at it excitedly. Sure, it was a little bland, but it was warm and good. It had been a lone time since she had eaten fish. Already her mind raced to think of how they might make life here more sustainable, but whether that was just a fantasy and too much to hope for, she was not sure. She would have to discuss that with Ethan some more. But she wasn't the first one to ask questions. She popped the last bite of fish into her mouth and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and watched the fire for a moment. It seemed such a long time ago that she had made her way to Haven. It was several years, but they had felt so long. All the worry, hurt, anger and sorrow seemed to overshadow much of recent life, thought here were also brighter days and memories.
"Well..." Riley began, glancing at Ethan and smiled briefly. "Me and my family used to live in Yellow Springs. In Ohio." She was quiet for a few seconds, fighting off memories she did not want to sink into. Sometimes when she recalled something from life before, a flood of memories came unbidden and always seemed to overwhelm her and trap her, as if she was stuck in quicksand and no matter how hard she fought she would always be swallowed up. It got easier with time, however, and this time Riley managed. "Mom and dad worked in Dayton, mom was a teacher, dad was a carpenter. We went to school there as well." She smiled again, thinking of her brothers. "When all of this started," Riley gestured with her hand. "We went east. We headed for Columbus first. The military tried to protect the city, but..." As Ethan well knew, the waves of the dead that washed over the cities were unstoppable. Especially where there were large concentrations of people. If one got infected, the disease spread faster than they could put bullets in them. "Dad got us out of Columbus pretty quickly. On the roads we kept meeting military that told us to keep driving east. Just go east, they said..." Riley trailed off.
She remembered how scared they had all been. Though the kept going east, they heard rumors from other survivors that one by one, the cities feel behind them. As if a plague washed over the country from the west. It soon became clear how the government and the military were unable to control it. Riley and her family knew that if they kept going east, at some point they would reach the coast and what then? She sighed and looked at Ethan again.
"But it didn't seem to matter. We saw what happened in Columbus, which seemed to be the same fate of every other city. So what good would it do? Cleveland? Pittsburgh? Washington? Baltimore? Philly?" Riley shook her head and pursed her lips. "I guess we knew what was going to happen there as well, so we turned south instead. South west. I'm not sure what the plan was. Perhaps to find something like this." She gestured to their surroundings and shrugged. "So we drove on and eventually made it to Charleston in West Virginia." She fixed her eyes on the table and started fidgeting with her hands, picking at her nails. "We were short on water and food so we tried to find what the looters hadn't taken." Riley's lip trembled ever so slightly. "We were in a store, all of us, and some looters saw us. They had guns and pointed them at us, telling us to give them what we had." A moment of silence. Ethan was the second person she told her story to, and even though it was years ago, the pain still felt new now that she spoke of it. "They shot my dad. I rushed one of them but he ran off pretty quickly." The image flashed before her eyes. The bullet caught him in the throat and the blood and the sound he made were all of a sudden all to vivid in her mind. The looter she had tried to fight had cut her twice. He'd given her the scars on her stomach and collarbone. The cuts had been deep as well, but Riley remembered that she could hardly feel them for her desperation and rage. It had been a stupid thing to do rush him, though. Dangerous. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she continued with eyes fixed on her fidgeting hands. "We didn't know that the... Dead, were already in Charleston, but the noise had attracted them. It spread so fast. They rushed us and I took the car. My family..." Riley was not sure she could bear telling him what she had seen. The dead were upon them faster than any of them had expected. They had torn the flesh of her brothers and her mothers and it was a sight she would never forget as long as she lived. Another tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with her sleeve, looking up at Ethan and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry." She said.
It felt good to tell someone but at the same time very painful. She wanted to remember her family, but she wanted to remember them before all this. When they went on trips, camping, hunting, fishing. When her dad would teach her all sorts of things. She had learned what skill she had with her hands from him. Her brothers were overprotective as brothers are, but they had a good relationship. Riley learned to fend for herself, growing up with the two of them. She shook her head and took a deep breath.
"Not half an hour out of Charleston, the car breaks down. Car makes noise, walkers here the noise and..." Riley remembered the panic. "I can't get the car started, so I get out and I run. Away from the road and into the woods. I was so scared and I didn't know what to do. So I just went east." The time she had spent walking on her own had been a grueling experience. Tired, hungry and alone and terrified. "I walked around for... More than two days, too afraid to go into towns for supplies. Henry and Rob found me by some stupid luck and took me back to Haven." Her thoughts went to Henry and Rob. They were lost too. But here they were, Ethan and Riley. Alive and well. "The rest, I suppose, is history." She smiled and shrugged.
Her first time in Haven had been strange. She didn't sleep at night. She cried most of the time and was generally no use to anybody. That was until Maggie had sat her down and talked to her, in her 'tough-love' fashion. Riley missed the old gal more than she could express. She had been the type of person, who helped hold the Haven community together.
"Gray." Riley said and tilted her head. The stinging had left her eyes she was no longer fidgeting with her hands. My last name is Gray."


 
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As Riley spoke, Ethan's eyes never strayed far from hers and he soaked in every word. She, like everyone, had experienced loss - family and friends and a life well-lived. He envisioned Riley as she might have been for a moment, and his mind drifted to what she had said a few days ago. I wish I had met you before all this, Ethan, she had said. For a moment he imagined it - days spent learning to fish for leisure and not for survival, and... He barely remembered what he did for fun - it had been years.

Once tears began to well in Riley's eyes, he snapped back to the present moment and found himself reflexively reaching out to gently touch her forearm as she collected herself. It felt like the right thing to do, even if he could hardly recall how he had handled grieving friends in his past life and unlike the last time Riley had cried he was even more unsure of where they stood now that the fresh wounds of Haven were beginning to scar over. His fingers were calloused to the touch, but gentle, barely making contact with Riley. There they remained as she finished her story, receding only once Riley clarified her last name.

"Gray." Ethan repeated, a soft smile forming at the corner of his lips. "It suits you."

For a moment a silence hung between them, broken only by the a swaying of wind and the soft emerging taps of rainfall.

"I'm sorry, Riley," he said after taking the silence to reflect on her words. "It's just a few words years too late, and they won't bring your family back, but I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that and..."

Where was he going with this? He lost his train of thought for a moment. His brain was addled. He needed to smoke.

"...and I just wanted to thank you for sharing it with me," he added. "I think it's important, keeping and sharing those memories even when they hurt. It means we haven't lost everything. It means there's still hope that one day there might be another person with fond memories of their parents, who knows only this world, not the one they lost.."

He laughed then, softly.

"Am I making any sense?"


 
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Riley sat and watched him as he spoke, with a slightly surprised expression on her face. It made her smile. It made her heart swell that these words came from Ethan, the man who was always so stern and serious. The man who seemed to struggle whenever she got emotional. But what mattered was the gentle touch of a calloused hand. An arm around her shoulder. His trying. He did his best to comfort and console her and that mattered more to her than anything. It was human. So very human. And what he now said revealed to her that he also reflected on these things. Ethan also clung to feelings, principles and the idea that good deeds would keep them in a world so intent on claiming their lives. Riley may have caught more fish, but he helped in a way that was both immeasurable and - if she was to venture a guess - unknown to Ethan himself. And that was endearing. Riley was smiling brightly, nodding.
"It makes perfect sense." She said, letting a moment pass in silence. "And don't be sorry. It's nothing no one else has gone through." Riley let out a soft laugh, mocking his voice and repeating the words he had said back at their previous shelter when she had tended his wounds and he had told her his story. She had tried making her voice deep and serious like his, mimicking his southern drawl. After a moment, her smile faded slowly and she looked at the flames in the fireplace.
They would have to keep fishing each day and catch a lot of fish, if they were to keep fed and healthy - especially with the coming winter. She was wondering if they might start hunting, once they had situated themselves properly at the house. Ethan's thought that they might reach a point where they could even walk around relatively freely sounded perfect. It would take a lot of hard work, but if they could manage then they might create something wonderful by the lake. Hope began taking root in her heart, though cautious it was.
"It's not fair, though." Riley tore her eyes aware from the fire and fixed them on Ethan again. "We know each other's stories now, but you know my last name and I don't know yours." She waited for his reply listening to the gentle rain falling outside. She hoped it would be over by morning as there were several things she wanted to get done then. More washing and fishing. She had a mind to wash the covers of the bed and see if they could still be used, so for once they could get out of their bedrolls and under nice, plush covers.
In a few days, perhaps, they could explore the area around the lake. There were more houses and buildings that were bound to hold valuable tools and other things they could use. Areas like these always had a lot of tools because it was remote and if something broke, you had to fix it quickly. She reminded herself to ask Ethan what he thought their plan should be for the next few days. But for now they had a fire going and company, such as it was, was pleasant and their conversation was nice. Riley found herself missing his gentle touch of her arm.
 


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"Dawson," he said after a pause; it had been so long since anyone had asked, and he had almost forgotten. "It's Dawson."

The silence that followed was amicable, as often silences between he and Riley were. They finished what was left on their plates and stored the remaining fish in as best a place as they could, wrapped in clean clothes from their packs. The rain continued outside, its gentle droplets swaying and swerving along the dirty glass panes of the sliding deck doors. Ethan watched them for a moment and tried to think of the last time he had seen the rain. Autumns were always damp in the mountains, and he supposed this year should be no different.

His attention shifted from the trailing droplets and to the rolling grey clouds above. Theirs was a gentle grey, more melancholic than fierce and storm-like. Just off in the distance he could barely spot the faded pink and orange streaks of sunset pierce through the cloud cover. Out over the edge of the lake along the other side, hazy in the falling rain, he could spy the tips of the trees lurching in the wind. It was nothing special, just an autumn rain at sunset, but Ethan felt subsumed by it just as he had the lake earlier in the day. The dangers of their life receded, and he was left with an otherwise mundane moment that left him feeling small and insignificant.

Is this what it was like? He thought, coming back to reality. Able to lose myself in something so quickly?

Ethan fetched the plates he and Riley had used and laid them by the sheets Riley had expressed interest in washing while they had fished atop the rise. With any luck, the way to the inlet would be safe and devoid of mud come morning but they would have to take extra care with the lurkers they had evaded. They would need stakes, too, covering the front approach to the house. Having a routine and list of objectives was sublimely comforting, and even if the lake house was less safe than Haven had been from the dead, he took solace in the routine.

After dousing the fire, Ethan and Riley by unspoken agreement headed upstairs after setting aside their kits for the next day by the rear doors. They kept their footsteps quiet despite the rain, and Ethan felt that same unease that always came when he slept in hostile territory that a lurker might make its way up the stairs without his knowing. Not that a lone lurker would find them, tear through the barricades, up the stairs, and the shut bedroom door without his knowing... but nevertheless the fear persisted, and it was one that he could never shake no matter how many years it had become standard that lurkers roamed the earth.

Ethan sunk gratefully into bed, and for a moment he and Riley laid there, neither speaking. Her weight along the opposite end of the bed had become one of few comforts he had found on the road from Haven, a constant reminder of sorts that he was not alone and a part of him was thankful she had suggested they share a bed. Without much thought, Ethan slid a hand across the bed until it met Riley's, gently wrapping around it and offering it a gentle squeeze. Like the touch on the forearm, and an arm wrapped around her shoulders, it simply felt right...


 
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His touch was unexpected and surprised her at first. Her heart beat a little faster, wondering what it could possibly mean. But much as his touch had done at the dining table, this too soothed and comforted her. When he squeezed her hand, she smiled but didn't say anything. Riley squeezed back and didn't move her hand. It was nice. Comfortable. It was something she had missed so dearly, though she had not been aware of it. It was strange to think on what a simple touch could mean. It didn't take long for sleep to set in. She was tired and spent, though their day had been less arduous than usual. As she drifted off, she dragged Ethan's hand to rest on her stomach, grasping it with both of hers.
And so she rested more easily than she had in a long time. The knot of worry in her chest seemed smaller and she didn't wake suddenly, startled at the smallest creak or crack of the old house. She slept all through the night unmarred by gruesome memories and visions of fear and death.
When she woke Riley turned to find Ethan missing, much to her annoyance. He was up before her yet again. The sun was barely rising. It began to creep over the treetops later and later in the morning, but still her inner clock woke her at the same time. Soon it would be dark when they woke and the light of the day would be all the more precious. But not yet. They would have to make the most of it, while the sun struggled to keep its strength. Riley sighed, sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes and then stood, dressing in her new shirt and a fresh pair of socks. Before exiting the bedroom, she took the sheets off the bed and brought everything with her downstairs. She might be able to wash everything today and they could rest even better that evening. There were, of course, more important things to do.
Opposite the dining table was an old, dusty couch and a low table. There were two chairs as well and years ago, a family might have gathered there to drink coffee, tea, hot chocolate, read stories, play board games and other activities typical for a vacation spent at the lake. Riley put the covers down onto the couch and waved her hand at the dust that sprung up, tickling her nose. She brushed hair out of her face and turned, expecting to find Ethan sitting at the dining table, though he wasn't there. A pang of nervousness touched her heart, though Riley tempered it, reassuring herself that he was in one of the other rooms or outside. She was not so comfortable yet that this didn't worry her.
"Ethan?" She called as loud as she dared, not wanting to attract attention from lurkers that might be outside. Yesterday that had been able to walk around the house and along the coast safely, but that might have changed for all she knew. Riley listened intently and furrowed her brows in worry. "Ethan?" She called again, forgetting the hunger that gnawed at her stomach.
 


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Dew had formed along the grass by the front of the house, glistening a pale yellow-orange in the coming dawn sunlight. The trail down the lonely hill and to its base was likewise damp, and the mud had clung to Ethan's boots. The cool autumn air was heavy with the scent of fresh rainfall and pine, leaving a invigorating burning in his lungs as he inhaled and exhaled. He had not walked far from the house, only insofar as to examine the base of the hill upon which it stood and the trail leading up as when last he had arrived, he had paid scant attention to the trail.

It was about as wide as a car, with roughly an arm's length of give on either side. The occasional crunch beneath his boots indicated to Ethan this might have at one point been a driveway that led up to the garage adjoined to the house, which had been left entirely bare by whoever had come before them. The trees that clung to either end of the trail would be good enough barriers to any wandering dead and blunt any mass of them from being able to wash over the house, but he did not like the idea of even a handful of scattered lurkers making their way up.

In his mind's eye, Ethan visualized a row of stakes at the base of the hill, a handful of sparse stakes up the trail, followed by a ring of them around the front porch of the house. Haven had been fortunate enough to have access to sheet metal, car tires, and an architect. He and Riley would have to make due with less, though Ethan knew Riley was skilled with her hands. Not that it would matter, he supposed, if they laid stakes and were left with just a single crossbow and knives. But that would be a problem for another time - for now, they still had the rifle and the shotgun to fall back on.

Ethan rounded back up the hill and entered the living room, shooting past it to the rear deck. There he stood for a moment, mind blank as he watched the sun steadily peek over the trees along the opposite shore of the lake.

"Ethan?"

He turned about, entering the house.

"Ethan?" Her voice was more concerned this time.

"I'm here," he replied softly. "I was checking out where we might be able to reinforce some of the front hill. I think, too, we might be able to use the garage as dry storage for what we are able to bag out there."

He paused, giving Riley a quick glance-over, remembering with a hint of embarrassment holding her hand the night before.

"But how are you doing? Want to cook up any more of the fish or get to it?"


 
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Though she scolded herself for not noticing that the door was not barricaded, a sense of relief also came over her as Ethan entered the house again. Riley had realized how easy it was to worry and panic, though she had managed to control herself. But not knowing where he was made her uncomfortable. Perhaps that was also part of getting used to their situation. Later on, when they had secured their dwelling and were able to walk more freely, would she be less worried about him if he was not there when she woke.
She watched him as he stood there and spoke, but didn't answer right away. She remembered taking his hand when they had gone to bed. Or rather, him taking hers and how welcome a gesture it had been. A sudden urge came over her, but she fought it and remained where she was. Riley had felt the urge to step toward him and wrap her arms around him. But that would perhaps be over-dramatic. She hadn't panicked because he wasn't there, but yet she was relieved. In some corner of her mind Riley was also acutely aware that each time he touched her, gentle and cautious as it was, it fanned a need that burned like a flame in an overwhelming dark. A need and craving for physical contact. Something she had been starved of for years. Blinking, she returned to the present.
"Yeah. Good thinking." She said, turning around to hide her flushed face. She went to the kitchen, checking the fish they had done their best to pack away and keep. It still looked fine and once cooked, it would probably be good. It was a meal and they couldn't afford to be picky. Over the next few days they would have to take stock of their inventory and sort their gear out. Being certain of what food to eat first was important, in case some of it spoiled. But most of what they had would last for a long, long time. There were many things they needed to do to get settled in properly. Enough to keep them busy for a while. "I think some food would be good? Give us a good start to the day."
She went about setting up in the fireplace as they had the night before and soon had a fire going to cook the fish. The scent poured out into the room soon and it made her more hungry. They were lucky that there were fish to be had in the lake. But hope had begun to grow in her heart and a part of her looked forward to sinking her teeth into a piece of venison, cooked over a live fire. How she hoped they could go hunting sometime. But for now, fish would do. It was better than plain rice in any case.
"I haven't even checked the garage yet. Might be some good stuff in there?" Riley set two plates down on the dining table and sat down, waiting for the fish to be cooked through. She had set two cups and a water bottle on the table as well. She poured and drank some. "Think we'll be able to make a proper defense out there?"