Carter moved up to the cabin behind Clover. It was an odd setup and one they still needed to get used to. Ever since he'd nearly broken his left leg, he'd found himself a lot less useful than he once was. Getting around on his own was hazardous not to mention he moved at a snails pace, something Clover constantly berated him about. Hunting had been left almost exclusively in Clover's hands. After Skylar had passed not too long ago, she'd taken it upon herself to commit to memory everything Skylar had taught her about using the rifle. All she needed was a little supervision and within a week she was comfortable enough to hunt on her own. Carter since then had been left with skinning and gutting duties.

Even now he felt like dead weight. As they pushed through the mud and the rain toward the porch, he found himself gradually falling behind the young girl. His cane would stick to the mud and every step was followed by a tug with his left hand as he tried to pull the thing out of the dirt. By the time she reached the wall, it'd taken him a dozen or seconds to finally catch up. By then he wasn't even concerned if anyone was following behind the two, he was only hoping the wall of rain had covered his feeble attempts to hide his handicap. He didn't need others doubting his ability to survive.

Despite everything, he still had his own set of skills that no broken limbs could take from him. He crept toward the window and peeked inside, trying to see past the curtains that had been drawn. There was no lights coming from within. and from what he could tell, no movement.

[b]"Clo."[/b]

Clover turned to see Carter peaking through the window.

[b]"Oooh heeey... there you are. I thought I'd lost you ba-"[/b]

[b]"Just give me the flashlight."[/b] Carter said, holding out his hand. Clover chuckled silently as she fetched the light and passed it to him.

A second later and light flooded part of the cabin, half of the room light up while the other half and whatever was behind the curtain remained dark. However even with the added assistance he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

After some silence and much contemplation, he gave Clover the nod she'd been waiting for. Readying her pistol, she took a step away from the door and with a quick and fluid motion, slammed her foot into it. Her weathered rubber soles collided with resilient wood creating a very loud "thump" that would no doubt echo through the empty house... or so they hoped. On their side it was hard to tell. The heavy rain drowned out what little noise Clover had made and after a minute of waiting, nothing happened.

[b]"I don't know..."[/b] Clover began a little skeptical of her work. [b]"Maybe it wasn't loud enough?"[/b]

Carter remained motionless against the wooden walls outside the cabin, his mind going through every scenario. As he his brain went to work, he couldn't help but notice the calming nature of the noise around him. The howling of the wind as it kicked through the air, the sound of croaking wood and whistling grass, trees as they were tossed around in the night. There was his heartbeat and the sounds of his ragged breathing and even those of Clovers but one thing stood out. Every now and again a stray raindrop would land on something metal. The resulting drum like beat made him turn and his eyes fell once again on the Park Ranger vehicle resting nearby.

[i][center]...No response... no response to the noise... tracks lead here...park ranger...[/i][/center]

It was then that the memory of the vehicle passing them on the highway resurfaced. As the glare of the headlights had passed him and the vehicle pulled ahead, his headlights had caught the tail end what had looked to be a truck. Not only was it the same truck, but the emblem on the back had been the same as well: A tall tree with a mountain in the backdrop. Earlier he'd let them be, figuring that they wanted no part in the group and Carter was only too happy to oblige. However with him standing on their front porch, it was a different story all together. He wasn't sure who these people were, only that they had a working vehicle and working vehicles usually meant food, clothing, weapons and fuel. If they were bandits, they'd kill to keep their own and until proven otherwise, everyone was a bandit.

[i][center]...We need to flush them ou-...[/i][/center]

Another sound caught his ear, the sound of a bolt locking into place. He turned back around just in time to see Clover's handiwork as she finished picking the lock.

[b]"Looks like it's open."[/b]

[b]"No... Clover!"[/b]

She was tired of new faces, dealing with strangers and having to wear her trust thin as she passed it out freely. She felt like the last hour of her life was spent dwindling the word down to nothing after she'd worked so hard to build it up, set rules. It frustrated her that these rules meant nothing to other people and no matter how hard she tried, they just kept walking into her life regardless of what she wanted.

[i][center]...No more... the next face I see is going to eat a bullet...[/i][/center]

Ignoring Carter's pleas, she stepped into the dark of the cabin with her pistol raised.