sin and sawdust

3

Eve pulled her jacket closer around her chest, the cold had intensified in the last few days and at times she had seriously debated taking up Daryl's offer of joining the group in the prison. She'd found it pretty quickly after he'd left her in the woods and from what she could see from the times she had ventured to the tree line at the edge of the woods facing the imposing building, they had it pretty sweet.

She hadn't, however, been able to find the cabin he had mentioned, wondering often if it was just a way to draw her closer to the prison. She'd found a small parcel of food left in the place she had made a makeshift camp, not that she had touched them, but hadn't set eyes on Daryl again. There were traces of him around, footprints, the occasional broken arrow from his crossbow but he'd kept out of her way. The arrangement suited her just fine. Eve had gotten along just fine so far and she'd continue that way, thank you.

She trudged through the trees, unconsciously finding herself back at the tree line and staring at the grey building in the distance. She felt a twinge of loneliness in her chest,as much as she was adamant about travelling alone, she was still human. She missed her family from before, her parents, sisters, her friends. Her husband. Memories pinged at the edges of Eve's mind, vying to take over and she pushed them down, blinking away the wetness that threatened to pool and fall. She'd long buried those feelings, the memories. Feelings got you dead.

She rested her hand against the trunk of the nearest tree, an old ash. Beneath her fingers, the bark felt comforting and familiar and she found herself grazing her hand absent-mindedly across the width, until something snapped her back to full attention. A carving in the tree, Eve turned her head to look at it.

It was a crudely carved house and a little arrow, pointing right. The cuts were fresh, a day or so, no more. A smirk ghosted Eve's lips, she knew who had left the sign, couldn't be anyone else. He was starting to really get on her tits, babyong her like this, if he had any idea of the things she'd seen and done, he'd probably dial down the misogyny but at the same time, she wasn't as upset about it as she thought she would, should, be.

She headed in the direction the arrow had indicated, fingers brushing against the butt of the knife on her hip. In the near distance, perhaps 30 feet away from the first carving, she found another, then another, leading her further and further into the woods, the canopy of leaves overhead growing thicker, less sunlit hitting the frozen trail through the trees. A full half an hour in, just as Eve started to wonder if it was a prank, a cruel joke or a trap as there was no sign of anything remotely inhabitable, she caught sight of a small cabin, tucked in a thicket next to a tiny stream she hadn't seen before. She wondered just how far off the track she had gone, if it had been such a great idea coming here. She didn't know this Daryl from Adam, he could be anyone, anything. God only knows what he'd expect or want or... take, from her.

Eve drew her knife and edged slowly towards the cabin, placing her feet carefully in measured, silent steps. Daryl may have thought she was a useless hunter but she wasn't as bad as he assumed.

The little building had one door and one small window to the eastern side, she quickly but carefully moved around the side with no window, round the back and ducked under the sill. Slowly, she pulled herself up and peered through the glass, eyes raking over the interior which was small, cramped, but empty. She tapped her knife on the frame, to see if anything or anyone moved inside but there was nothing. Eve stalked her way to the entrance door, slowly lifting the catch and stepping quietly into the small space beyond.

To her left, a small pile of blankets and a tatty pillow, her right, an army cot. To Eve's absolute delight a small contained fireplace, with some wood in the hearth.

Eve closed the door quietly behind her and smiled. The weight of her journey seemed to be lifting in the surroundings of the cabin, a roof, walls and the lure of a real place to rest her head was relaxing muscles she didn't know she had tensed. She had a sudden of overwhelming gratitude for the surly man who had led her here, despite all her determination not to let anyone put her in a position where she owed them a damn thing. She was tired. Tired of moving, tired of running, tired of avoiding the mess in her head.

Dropping her bag heavily on the dusty floor, Eve immediately set to work lighting small fire and arranging the blankets on the cot. She knew she would have to fortify the door and window sooner rather than later but for now, sleep.

Safe sleep.

Well, as safe as you could be when the dead had risen to eat the living but still, perspective.