This Lullaby ( Kaylor )

( come morning light )

Another sort of short chapter, but this one is extremely important!  And if any of you have ever seen the Resident Evil films, hopefully you'll catch the reference I made to it.  But it's totally okay if you don't.

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"Are we sure this is safe?" 

Taylor studied the cabin, head tilted slightly to the side.  It wasn't a stronger fortress like the homes they usually picked to stay in.  It was just wood, a door, and a few windows.  Something out of an old-fashioned movie.  It might as well have been in black and white.  Karlie could understand Taylor's nervousness.  But they were three miles from the main road, and the cabin was set in a clutter of pine trees.  It was secluded, and probably safer than the semi-suburban houses they'd spent previous nights in.

She reached out, squeezed Taylor's glove-covered hand tightly.  They were both cautious, of course, but out of the two of them, Karlie tended to be a little more daring.  But this, she felt confident about.  Chapped lips tugged into a soft smile, "I'm sure.  Come on." 

Her other hand did fall to her gun, just in case.  But as she walked up and peered into the window, the small, three-room building appeared empty.  She jiggled the doorhandle, and finding it locked, pulled a bobby pin from her hair.  Having sisters had come in handy.  In only a minute or two, she'd toggled the lock, and the doorknob turned, hinges creaking softly.

The cabin was small but it would do.  The main area had a thick rug made out of some sort of animal hide.  There was an enormous fireplace, with wood stocked next to it (and she thought she remembered seeing some on the porch, too).  A worn but comfortable-looking couch was settled in front of it. The kitchen was small, but it's not like they really needed it.  And off towards the back of the cabin, there was a bathroom and a single bedroom.

Taylor took it upon herself to search the other rooms, and when she was satisfied they were empty, she dropped her things on the couch, "Okay, so maybe you were right."  Lips tilted into a landslide of a smile, and she turned her head away before muttering, "For once."

"For once?" Karlie yelped, incredulous.  She clutched her chest and stumbled backwards as though Taylor's words were a bullet wound.  With a dramatic sigh, she fell back against the kitchen table, feigning death.

In the process, however, her elbow landed against something solid.  A confused furrow of her eyebrows, and she turned to look at the thing.  It was dusty, with various knobs and buttons.  "It looks like some sort of radio," Taylor said, walking over to run her fingers along the top, making trails in the dust.

"Wonder if it still works," Karlie said, half to herself.  It wasn't like there was a use for it anymore.

Taylor's eyes flicked back over to the taller girl, "It probably would just be dead air."

"Or we'll turn it on and someone somewhere is playing Blank Space for all the zombies to jam to," Karlie replied.  That pulled a grin across Taylor's mouth, and the former singer bumped Karlie's shoulder with her own.

"I've got a hunger for human flesh baby, and I'll bite your neck," Karlie sang, vaguely to the tune of Taylor's former hit.

The blonde burst into laughter, a beautiful cacophony of sound Karlie hadn't heard in far too long.  Her eyes sparkled like fallen stars, "This is why I'm the songwriter."

"Not anymore," Karlie said, without thinking.  At all.  At the words, Taylor's laughter cut off short, like it had been sliced with scissors.  Blue eyes paled to gray, and she turned her head away in a sudden motion, nose wrinkling in the way it did when she was either incredibly angry or incredibly upset.  Karlie knew instantly that it was the latter, and she debated just waltzing outside and letting one of the undead rip her throat out.  "God, Tay, I'm so sorry.  I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously not," Taylor snapped back, voice colder than the crisp Colorado winter outside.

She turned to walk away, and Karlie reached for her wrist, "Taylor--"

"Not right now," the blonde cut her off, yanking her hand away.  And with that she walked over, plucking a random book from the shelf and collapsing on the couch, successful blocking Karlie out.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to get an apology across until Taylor was less angry, Karlie busied herself with starting a fire.  Once heat was pouring from the fireplace and the wood was cracking like bones, she searched through the kitchen. Under the sink, she found a few jugs of water, stored probably in case the pipes froze.

She carried them to the small bathroom, using them to fill the tub.  The water was cold, but it was enough to wash herself, and she drained it before leaving the rest of the clean water in jugs in the hall for Taylor to use.  When she came back out, hair damp and cold as it dripped on to her shoulders, she found that her girlfriend had moved.

She was sitting at the table, leaning over the radio, messing with the settings.  Her hair had grown out a lot, falling into her face, bangs frazzled.  Her lips were pursed in concentration.  Karlie approached carefully, pulling out one of the other chairs.  The shorter girl didn't even look up, and Karlie started running over ways to apologize in her head.  She had just finished collecting and organizing words when a sudden burst of noise from the radio startled them both.

Taylor reached for one of the dials, turning it until the growling static grew clear.  Her blue eyes finally flickered over to Karlie, wide and surprised, no longer angry as they took in the exact content of the message.

"This is Niki, speaking from Arcadia.  We offer food and safety.  There is no infection here," The voice belonged to a woman, and Taylor hurried over, grabbing the book from earlier, ripping out a page.  She found a pen on the kitchen counter, and as the woman's voice continued echoing over the radio waves, Taylor wrote down the words and the coordinates of this place called Arcadia.

The message played through several times, then the station grew quiet except for a soft hum of static.  Karlie swallowed thickly, reaching for the piece of paper, "Arcadia."

"Should we?  The car we have now has GPS still.  We could put in the coordinates.  If we're getting the signal, it can't be far," Taylor said.  Her tone was all business, Karlie noted, but at least they were talking.

The model bit her lower lip, studying the message.  Food and safety.  No infection.  It seemed almost too good to be true, "What if it's a trap?"

"We won't know unless we try," Taylor told her, and Karlie realized they were usually reversed in this conversation.  It caught her off guard.

Green eyes closed for a moment, then she allowed a nod, "We'll leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Taylor repeated, and Karlie took a chance, reaching out for the other girl's hand.  She expected the blonde to pull away, so she was startled when she didn't.  Taylor's breath filtered out in a sigh, distantly shaky.  And her voice sounded falsely determined, "I'm still upset with you."

"I really am sorry.  It just slipped out.  I wasn't thinking," Karlie said gently, "I'm an idiot.  It must be all of those perfume and hairspray fumes I used to be around."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "You're definitely an idiot."

But when Karlie looked at the perfectly sculpted profile, Taylor's lips were tugging upwards into a smile.

It wasn't long before they were in the bed, Karlie apoligizing with her hands, Taylor forgiving with breathless gasps of Karlie's name.

And their hope was printed on a piece of paper torn from a novel, tucked away safely in the pocket of Taylor's backpack.