Stage One: Hope in Darkness

Memories Found (Lara & Annabelle)

Days had passed while in this little cabin. Hannibal was getting stronger by the day. His wound looked nearly all closed up, the stitches could come out. We should stay for a couple more days though to make sure it was good and sealed. He didn't need to open it back up again. I hated not being on the move, not after all that had happened. The cabin was nice though, reminded me of my own little tree house.

Longing filled me every time I thought about those walls that I had built myself. I want to go home. I want to stop running, looking over my shoulder. Waiting for the day when I can't run fast enough anymore.

Pushing down those feelings I focus on the now, thinking about the future would only upset me. The cabin had that running water which was a plus. The next house would definitely have running water if I killed myself to get a hold of the materials. It may have just been a pipe dream but it was all I had to distract my racing thoughts. Hannibal and I were both going a bit stir crazy being cooped up in here.

Running water meant we didn't need to make any trips to find water and the cabin had cabinets filled with canned goods so no hunting was needed. Hannibal ate vena sausages and spam and any other canned meat. It was not what he wanted but it would have to do for now. the sounds that stuff made when it came out of the can.....ugh... It made me want to gag every time. I had a variety of beans and fruit cocktail to keep me happy.

And the running water. Had I mentioned the water? I had never been so clean, so hydrated. I was going to enjoy it for as long as I could. Speaking of....

I get out of the tub I was currently soaking in. I dry myself off with one of the towels from the cabinet. I dress in my only other set of outside clothes. My dirty clothes go in next, I had been washing the bloody clothes daily. They still didn't smell quite right. Thankfully I had found some soap stashed under the sink, I scrub the garments within an inch of their lives. If I could find replacements then I would never put them on again. But this was the apocalypse and you never got rid of things unless you absolutely had to and the clothes were still in good condition. The blood stains had come out and you could never tell that they had been soaked in it.

But the smell. It was psychosomatic, I knew it was. Still, while I had the water I was going to indulge myself. At least they would be extra fresh when I put them on again.

When I have scrubbed them to my satisfaction I drain the tub, and squeeze as much water out of them before hanging them on the sides of the clawfoot tub.

*Creak* I stilled. Hannibal growls, someone was out there. My bag was in the bathroom, but not my bow, or my rifle. Shit, what a fucking oversight. The water had made me too comfortable.

All I have is my survival knife, this would be interesting. I fling the door open, the camp light from the open bathroom door clashing with the flickering flames in the fire place. There is a shape in the kitchen, the shadows make it hard to see. I would have to blind no to see what was in front of me. Impossible. That can't be she's......she's....gone. The knife clatters to the floor, my fingers too weak to hold it anymore.

"Lara?" My damaged throat creaks the word out, it sounded more like haura. Perfect timing as usual for my voice to flee me. I can't move, my brain too busy trying to process what it was seeing to do anything else.

Hannibal seemed to catch on to my mood and stops growling.

"Who's there?" Her shaky voice calls out, that's when my brain finally kicks on. The light is behind me and the flight from the fire doesn't quite reach over here. I am standing in the dark, she can't see me. Her voice sounds so small. I can tell from they way she holds herself that everything is not alright. She's exhausted and bruised and who knew what else.