Stage One: Hope in Darkness

The Beach (Lara)

After my close call in the subway we moved as far away as we could. The shotgun that Ryan had used had made a lot of noise, it would call them from miles away. We moved well into the night. It was pitch black outside but still we pressed on. Not wanting to attract any more attention we did it solely on the light of the full moon that peeked through the canopy of trees above us. My legs were on fire, and we were slowing down. Trying to see tree roots and other things that might trip us was getting to be too much.

Especially for me. The adrenaline from before was wearing off, shock was settling in. Ryan was dragging me at this point.

"A cabin, there through the trees" Sam whispers into the dark.

"Good a place as any to hole up for the rest of the night" Rose chimes back. I don't care, I just want to lay down. It could be in a ditch at this point. Thankfully the cabin is empty, no walkers or people. It is rather dusty though, been awhile since anyone was here. A good sign for us. The others rush around the room, securing doors and windows. I end up sitting on the floor by an unused fireplace. The rug that covers the rough wood floors by the fireplace is frayed around the edges. My fingers automatically start to pick at the small fibers.

I had almost died. The moment in the subway kept playing over and over again. The details only get more vivid. The way the stairs felt underneath me. The smell of sewer and rotting corpses. Pungent, putrid, and so damn strong. I could smell the malodor even now, as if it clung to the inside of my nostrils. My panic rose and with it the sickness developed inside my stomach. The way my flashlight illuminated the whole horrible scene. The glint coming off the walkers teeth as it came down... I am going to be sick.

Standing lightning fast I bodily pushed my way into the small bathroom in the cabin. There was no water so the plumbing wouldn't work. In my urgency, it did not matter. I clung to the dirty white porcelain with both hands. Acid burned its way up my throat, my stomach clenched painfully. I could hear voices in the background. Then I started to vomit and nothing else mattered to me.

As I lost all the contents of my stomach I sobbed, and I berated myself.

How could I have been that stupid?!

What you did was entirely reckless!

What if the others had followed you?

What if one of them had died?

Oh god.... Nothing more was coming up now. But still my body heaved. Every muscle in my body was tightened to the point of pain and there was not anything I could do about it. There was a whining sound. Was that coming from me? It sounded like an animal in pain.

"Shh hey it's okay" Rose rubbed my back in slow circles. There was nothing left in me. My breathing was finally returning to normal. The heaving had stopped.

"Let's get off this floor yeah?" Rose grabs me under the arms and gets me to my feet. Rose gets me back into the main room of the cabin, Sam started a fire.

Red. Blood red. There is blood on my leg. The one that the walker had a hold of. Did it bite me? Rose sits me down in front of the fire. My legs are shaking, everything is shaking. Rose is very methodical as she lifts the pant leg away from the wound. Her eyes meet mine,

"Just some bb's from the shotgun shell," Thank anyone who is listening. Relief rushes through me. There has been too many close calls today for my liking.

"Good. Then I can kill you myself," Ryan mutters from somewhere behind me. His footfalls hit the floor with audible thuds. He paces back and forth, a caged animal getting ready to pounce.

"Ryan..." Sam hisses out, obviously trying to stop the storm that is about to unleash.

"No," Ryan snaps out, "I think we need to have this talk." He stops pacing now and the full force of hurricane winds hit, "She could have gotten herself killed if we hadn't been there, and hell we almost weren't! Two more seconds and we would be putting a bullet in her!"