Stage One: Hope in Darkness

Sketches and Cages (Annabelle)

Walking up and down the main street, no arrows. There are a dozen side streets that also have stalls so I head into them. These streets are not so crowded but the space is smaller. Makes the few people that are around press together more tightly. On more than one occasion I feel a brush of a shoulder, even Hannibal is becoming less and less of a deterrent.

People saw that he wasn't growling and biting, behaving like a well trained dog. Even a dog still bites when provoked. It was bothersome but as long as they were not trying anything I could deal with it. Let's find the arrows quickly and get the hell out of here. There were way too many people here for my liking. An all you can eat buffet.

I crack a smile. A sick thought like that really shouldn't make me smile. But then again my sense of humor has always been a twisted one.

A stall with sharp points catches my eye. Arrows. They had a few different types, ranging from homemade wood arrows to aluminum to steel. It was a bow hunter's dream. The person running the stall this time is a woman.

She pops up from behind the counter as I approach.

"Need something?" She eyes me cautiously. Time for my trusty notepad.

'Arrows' she scoffs.

"Well obviously, you wouldn't be here if you weren't. I meant what kind." Her eyes wander, observing and not lingering as the man had. She lights up at the sight of my bow,

"That is a beauty. Where did you manage to find a compound bow like that?" I can hear the awe in her voice and she gives a low whistle. The woman must really love her bows. I write on the pad again, 'Around'. I show it to her. She snorts with laughter.

"Yeah I bet."

She pauses, looking around. That look, searching for any threats. Was I in danger here?

"I got just the thing," she reaches under the counter. I tense. I don't like not seeing peoples hands. Never know what they might come out with.

She places a bundle of arrows on the counter. I have to stop myself from drooling. Carbon shafts, with carbon fiber fletching (the end where the feathers traditionally went), and custom carbon steel willow leaf arrowheads.

No way could I afford these. These must have been made custom for someone pre-apocalypse. They sat on the counter between us, I stared at them intently. I pick up one, admiring the craftsmanship. The woman watches me like hawk, her hand never leaving the rest of the arrows.

Reverently I set the one in my hand back down. Best stop fooling myself with the fantasy of these arrows. It would only make it harder to leave them behind when she realize I couldn't afford them.

"What do you have to trade?" I know it won't be enough. The measly pelts I gathered in the woods would never equal enough to get the arrows. Still I find my hand writing the words.

'Pelts' I flash her the words. She laughs,

"Yeah not gonna happen lady. Not for these, it will get you something else though." I hide the disappointment well. I knew they were out of reach. Hands on the edges of my notebook I start to flip it closed.

"Wait!" she reaches out for the notebook and has it out of my hands before I can even react. That quick grip must come from grabbing all the people trying to steal things from the stall. She flips through the pages quickly. "You draw?"Obviously lady you are staring at the stolen proof of that. I hide my annoyance with a nod and reach out for my notebook. She hands it back somewhat reluctantly.

"If I were to describe someone, could you draw them?" Well that is unexpected. Once again I nod. Seriously my neck was going to get sore if this kept up. For the trillionth time I cursed my damaged throat. And the man who did it.