The Walking Dead: Return to Paradise Part Two

Chapter Eleven: Matching Scars

"No fucking way." Violet muttered in disbelief.

"Yes fucking way." Clementine responded.

Beyond the fallen trees, hidden from their view before, was a two storey cabin. The cabin consisted mostly of logs and wood planks with a brick chimney. Snow was piled on the roof, capping the building off. It looked like something from a Christmas card.

Jesus, I forgot those were a thing we used to do. Who remembers Christmas cards?
Clem thought.

"Let's check it out." Clem said, nodding towards the cabin.

"If it's clear, we're totally staying there." Violet replied excitedly.

She took her kukri out of its sheath and readied it as they approached the door.
Clementine held her knife in front of her and took hold of the handle.
She gave it a twist and pushed, the door swung open. Violet gave her a confused glance and Clem shrugged.
The pair made their entry and began scanning the immediate area. The front door crossed into a spacious living room.
There were a few worn leather sofas, a coffee table and a rug. The fireplace in the corner was covered by a metal cage.
Clem motioned with her head for Violet to follow her into the adjoining kitchen.
Once again she raised her knife and slowly opened the door.
The kitchen was empty. It was all extremely tidy, it made Clem suspicious.

"There's still a few more rooms over there." Violet whispered as they returned to the lounge.

"You check those, I'll go upstairs. Meet me when you're done."

"Got it." The blonde nodded.

Clementine stood at the threshold of the staircase and looked up. She raised a knife and slowly crept up the flight.
The first step creaked as her feet made contact with them. Clem winced and froze in place, listening out for any movement upstairs.
When she was satisfied that it was safe, she continued up the stairs, treading as lightly as possible to avoid setting off any more creaking steps.

At the top of the landing, Clem quickly checked left and right.
On her right, there was a single door to a small utility closet.
To the left was a hallway and the choice of three doors to go through.
It was dark in the upstairs hall, the only natural light leaked in from downstairs. A chill ran down Clem's spine, this was downright eerie.
She crept up the hall and pushed open the first door on her right.
It was a bathroom, an unusually clean bathroom. Out of curiosity, Clementine turned the tap on the sink. Water flowed out, much to her shock. She quickly took out her canteen and a few plastic bottles and began filling them. The water looked clean enough but they could boil it later to be sure.

Must have a water tank still hooked up or something.

She stuffed them into her pack, picked up the machine gun, and left the room.

Door number two was a bedroom. There were two cabinets against the wall next to each other.
Clem opened the wooden doors and froze. They were both fully stocked with food. There were cans of corn, beans, tomatoes. There was a wrapped paper bundle sitting on the shelf full of preserved meat.
Clementine's mouth watered at the sight. She and Violet had been eating nothing but cold beans and sardines for the last week.
She extended a hand, greedily coveting the lavish foods, but faltered.
All signs pointed to the cabin being inhabited. If she took their food, it would be equivalent to stealing away part of their life. These items would have been hard to come by all the way out in the woods.
Clem's shoulders dropped and she turned away from the stockpile. As if on cue, her stomach growled.
When she turned, Clem noticed something poking out from under the bed.
She placed the machine gun on top of the blanket and crouched down to get a better look. It was a beige shoebox.
Clem pulled it out and took the lid off.
The box was full of trinkets. Rings, bracelets, glasses, charm necklaces.
She furrowed her brow and sifted through the items. There was a Polaroid at the bottom with a hole through it. Clem took it out and flipped it over.
It was a picture of a man smiling with his arm around a young boy on a boat. The boy was holding up a fish to the camera.
The hole was punched straight through the bottom of the picture and the front side was stained with dried blood.