Author Note: It's been very curious to update this story chapter by chapter and discover new twists and turns to rhia AU. With time and perspective, a few things have changed, including the title of this chapter. inspired it. The original title was inspired by the song Shepard's Song by Josh Garrels. And while that is a beautiful song, 2000 Miles by GRACEY just fits our lonely and isolated survivors better. I hope you enjoy chapter 2 reimagined :)
2000 Miles
The cottage had become the warm reprieve she needed to recover from her long stint on the road. While it would never heal her heart, it gave her peace and allowed her to find stability and shelter. The pace of the barren Midwest allowed her to create a comfortable, albeit paranoid, routine in the week since her arrival. She would wake early just as the sun was folding over the horizon and fold her pallet of blankets neatly next to the couch. She would pad softly to the kitchen for a small cup of coffee and leftovers from the night before. Never much, but enough to keep her sustained until evening. Once fully dressed in her two sweaters, coat, hat, and crimson scarf, she set out for the snares she had set the afternoon before. After the snares were checked and reset, she would trudge back to the house, refill her water bucket, and empty her designated toilet in a burn pit near the edge of the acreage. She then set out to reset the inside of the cottage and prepare it for her evening by restocking the wood for the stove.
Walking atop a thick layer of snow across what she was sure was a verdant pasture, she looked to the sky. The sun had taken to setting earlier in the day. And she wondered if the winter equinox had already passed with the changing position of its place in the sky. She smirked wistfully, recalling when Sophia had bounded home from school after learning about the planets and their rotation around the sun. She shook off quickly and turned back to her last chore before she closed the door on the day. This routine, while rigid, performed an important function: it kept her mind busy with tasks rather than heartache that often crept in late at night as her mind drifted between sleep and awake. More visions of Sophia had come. The two of them in the cottage, baking cookies as Daryl traipsed around outside working on gathering up meat for dinner. And on one such night, she'd imagined herself standing proudly at the kitchen sink, staring out the window at a giggling thirteen-year-old chasing a grown man around the snow-laden yard with the threat of well-aimed snowballs. She referred to the visions as glimmers, pure joy, and wishful 'what ifs' that left her choking back tears.
That is why she had started to venture beyond the boundary of the acreage to the neighboring houses. Sometimes, she found it funny, the everyday things that would set off thoughts of him. Once, while scavenging the house to the south of her, she discovered a familiar pocket knife. Another day, she'd stumbled upon a rustic wooden pair of angel wings affixed on a garden fence. She wondered how he might live now in the Kingdom or if he was building a life in Alexandria with their family. She did her best to brush off the longing and focus her attention, staying alert and staying alive as she traversed the barren fields between each property. So far, she had inspected three neighboring houses, all within a five-mile radius. The closest of the acreages was a simple two-mile jaunt down the road. Her instinct led her there first. While intact, it offered little shelter from the wind, no surrounding trees, and no cover from anyone or anything that may be out there with her. Along with the pocket knife, she'd found an impressive stockpile of untouched supplies. And so she felt confident spending the better part of two days carrying her spoils back to her shelter, knowing that whoever had saved them was long gone.
When she made it to the second and third houses, she realized that hoarding and hauling everything back to the cottage would leave her at a disadvantage if she ever needed to flee. "Be smart about it," she muttered, making note of their stockpiles in the back of her mind. She hadn't been one to trust the quiet of the plains just yet as she had only been here for a week, and no matter how careful she was, she suspected she wasn't alone after all. It was inevitable that she'd eventually cross paths with other humans. In fact, she was already paranoid that someone had been tracking her movements but hadn't yet revealed themselves. Her stomach flipped nervously at the thought of it and the choices she would have to make to protect herself. She knew it would quickly devolve into a choice between herself or them, and it would not be a difficult choice for her to make.
The rumbling of an engine broke through the trilling of the birds in the trees. She needed to get back quickly. As quietly as the snowpack under her feet allowed, she trudged forward, approaching the property from the east. She heard the telltale rumble again, this time near the road. She peered through the copse of cedar trees and spied the tire tracks in the snow on the road. Four wheels, not two. Her heart sank. A part of her still held out hope, but she knew it wasn't possible. She'd gone too far and for too long for him to follow.
Her hand gripped the strap of her backpack tightly as she stepped onto the road to gauge which direction the vehicle had gone. She was only fifty feet from the mailbox at the end of the driveway. She bit her lip and mustered the courage to follow the tracks. Her eyes widened. There she stood, staring down the long driveway, scolding herself for not covering her tracks better. Whoever it was had driven right up to the house.
In the distance, the sound of the engine cut out. The door of a vehicle creaked open, and then she heard the breaking of glass. She made haste following the edge of the drive, throwing her backpack beneath a bush and covering it with snow. Her hands trembled as she reached into her coat at her hip and pulled her knife from its holster. She would always choose herself. Dusk was approaching, and she felt a slight chill settle in. If the cottage was compromised, she could shelter in place at the neighboring house. The closer to the clearing where the house sat, the faster she crept along. She stopped at the edge and scanned the clearing. Her eyes landed on a rusted old Toyota truck parked in front. Just inside, she spotted a figure moving around, passing the bay window once and twice before seeing them looking out directly across to her position in the trees. She stumbled back a step and crouched down behind a thick section of brush. She held her breath and listened to the door open, followed by heavy footsteps crunching their way through the snow. It was a man, that much she had seen briefly through the window. She exhaled and readied her knife. Even if they took everything, she would make it out.
The crunch of his steps told her he was drawing near. One more deep breath, "I don't want to fight you. Just take what you want and leave. It doesn't have to be violent." she yelled. No reply. "I'm going to walk out. I have a knife," she continued. She stepped cautiously away from the tree line- the knife- ready in her hand for a fight. And it was there she froze, finding herself face to face with the end of a familiar bow. The breath left her lungs. "It's you!" she gasped and lowered her weapon.
His shoulders slumped in relief as he lowered his weapon. She noticed the quiver of his lip and nodded to reassure her. A tear slid down her cold cheek, but she made no movement to wipe it away. Without missing a beat, he dropped his weapon and bounded toward her. He wrapped her in his arms. Her body, at first, tense to his touch after months of no contact. The feeling faded in an instant as he choked out the words, "You're real."
She pulled away to drink in his features—the longer hair, tired eyes, cheeks slightly hollow from stress and lack of food. She lifted her right hand and gently brushed the long strands of his bangs away from his eyes. She sniffled, "There, now I can see you," she cooed. Her palm cupped his cheek, and she reveled in the feel of him. He was here; he was real, not just a glimmer to remind her of what she couldn't have.
His hands came up to touch her face. "Ya okay?" his voice trembled, and his eyes glistened with new tears. It was such a loaded question. She smiled sadly, looked into his eyes, and shook her head no. He reached up and grasped her hand in his.
"How?" she wrapped her other hand around the cold hand already in her grasp.
"I don't know." he shook with relief as he pulled her to his chest and held her tightly. The soft light from the sunset broke through the trees, trailing deep shadows across the snow and his features.
"The others?" she asked him, even though she already knew the answer. His grip tightened, and she felt him shake his head no into her shoulder. She took a few breaths against him to pull herself together before lifting his head from the crook of her neck. , "Inside?" He nodded and followed her to the door.