Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4340549.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Last_of_Us
  Relationship:
      Ellie/Joel_(The_Last_of_Us)
  Character:
      Joel_(The_Last_of_Us), Ellie_(The_Last_of_Us), Tommy_(The_Last_of_Us),
      Maria_(The_Last_of_Us)
  Additional Tags:
      Horses, Partnership, Friendship/Love
  Series:
      Part 1 of One_More_Trip
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-14 Completed: 2015-08-02 Chapters: 9/9 Words: 22707
****** One More Trip (I) ******
by sasha_t
Summary
     Maybe Tommy's little community isn't the answer to Ellie and Joel's
     situation. People are people, they'll do pretty much what they've
     always done.
     Companion piece: Nettles
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Brennon or Speedo *****
“Joel, can I talk to you?”
He looked up from the workbench, putting the grinding stone down. It was his
turn to sharpen all the blades: hunting knives, kitchen knives, machetes, axes,
switchblades. There was a big pile on the floor. A smaller pile was slowly
growing to his right. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and nodded.
“Shouldn't you be in school?”
“Yeah, it's lunch time. Mr. Harran is sick again.”
“Let's eat, then. Whatcha got?”
“What you packed for me this morning, duh! Who knows what peril awaits me, I
shudder to think.”
“Fancy. Don't reckon your modest lunch'll much titillate your palate, ma'am.”
“We shall see,” she said, slowly opening her lunch box with one eye shut, the
other barely open but peeking intently.
Ellie always had lunch with Joel. They'd take turns packing. Once in a while,
they'd surprise each other with rare delicacies scrounged up from God knew
where, a tradition they'd lovingly kept from the road. These days, the extra
treats were getting more scarce. Despite the small chance, Ellie liked to play
along each time. Today, though, Joel had outdone himself.
“Wild strawberries! Dude, no way! These are amazing! Joel, man, you gotta tell
me where you got 'em. Spill the beans!” Ellie sniffed at them. She knew better
than to lunge at them before her sandwich. But, boy, did they look delicious!
Joel huffed lightly. “Now now, an old fart gotta hold on to his secrets, too.
How else is he gonna rope in the ladies?”
“Grooooosss! You're not roping in anybody, not with that stinky shirt on. We
could wipe out five bloaters with that thing! Remember to have it registered
with FEDRA as a lethal weapon. When we get home, you gotta hand it over.
Laundry day tomorrow, gotta soak it overnight. And why the hell do you keep
putting yourself down like that? That's my job.”
Ellie bit into her first sandwich with such gusto it made Joel's mouth water
painfully. Mmmm, guy knows his way around an egg salad. Venison's harder to
swallow because of that iron taste, but, man, the charred bits are to die for.
Bet he'd make an incredible Texas barbecue if he had the right materials and
equipment. What the hell is a Texas barbecue, anyway? Do they make it even
better than the folks here? Gotta get him to make me one. Maybe we have to go
to Texas for that. Cool.
“Did you wanna ask me somethin', Ellie?”
Ever since he told her to give her horse back to Tommy and jump on Callus, his
tone with her had been warm and considerate. Sometimes also urgent, other times
exhausted, one time on the brink of death, but always caring. That was Joel. I
may be only 16, but I know stuff, old man. Like the fact that you're a
supercool dude that no woman wants because of me. Or the fact that you've
brought this upon yourself. You stupid idiot. You shoulda left me there. I
can't touch you because you might take it the wrong way, and frankly, it is
kinda wrong all things considered, not least because you're most likely not
immune, but I sure would like to be able to show you just how much you mean to
me, you son of a bitch. Only thing I can do is tug at your beard now and then.
What. A. Shitty. Space. I'm not even the cure for humanity anymore. All I am is
a nobody nobody wants to touch, talk to, or play with. Why the hell do you even
want me around?
An absurdly large ache built up in Ellie's stomach. As she took to doing these
days, she asked Joel a random question just to hear his voice.
“Um, yeah, Martha had her foal last night. Do you remember, Maria said I could
have it if I took care of it? And when I'm old enough I can ride it out
hunting. Dude, I'm old enough NOW. It's Brennon that's gotta catch up. You
think she'll keep her word?”
“Brennon, huh? It's a colt, then?”
“Dunno. Speedo?”
“Where in the Sam Hell do you come up with these names? Least it ain't Callus.”
“That was my masterpiece. You just don't know.”
They laughed and drank some of the tea.
“Sooooo?” pressed Ellie.
“So what?”
“Maria. You think she'll give me the horse?”
“Reckon she'll do that. No reason to get your hopes up for nothin'.”
“You think she's capable of breaking a promise.”
“Most anyone'll break a promise if it ain't too important, if there's good
enough reason.”
“Not the most charitable outlook, old man.”
“Not a charitable world, kid.”
Joel was curious where this was going. Little did he know it was going nowhere
fast as far as Ellie was concerned.
Ellie started digging into the wild strawberries. They were very small, but
perfectly ripe. Their sweetness and fragrance exploded in her mouth. Nellie!
And she had so many of them!!!
“Dude, I could get used to living in this world!” she sighed, swinging her
calves as she sat on the workbench beside Joel. He chuckled. It took so little
to make her smile. Too bad it never lasted long enough. What's long enough?
Forever.
“Let me do the hunting knives,” she said, jumping down and grabbing the
grinding stone.
“Now, you got school, miss. Ain't nothin' here for you to do. B'sides, I've
just 'bout had enough of your chatterin' for one day. Go on, scoot.” He
pretended to lose interest in order to get her talking. Whatever it is, she
must be achin' to say it.
“Come on, old man, this requires my delicate touch. I'll just do this one, then
I'm gone. Cross my kidneys.”
He let her take the knife with the ivory handle. It was her favorite. Whenever
her turn to use it came round, her posture straightened and she looked
invincible, like that Dr. Daniela Star from her comic books. Actually, it was a
pretty decent knife.
“So, I'm thinking, maybe you can build me a stall next to the house? Please?”
The conversation did have a point after all. Even Ellie was surprised. It
wasn't what was really bothering her, but it was something.
“Smooth, kiddo. Real smooth. You better get that notion out of your head right
quick, 'cause I ain't buildin' shit next to the house.” Joel couldn't help
himself: he grinned and shook his head. She zoomed in on the weakness
instantly.
“Didn't you say you used to build things? Houses and stuff? That is a noble
profession if there ever was one.”
“That was a long time ago. Not sure I know how to hold a hammer no more.”
“Pfffft. You fixed Buckley's doghouse two weeks ago.”
“Ellie, that was a small job. A horse, well, that's a whole 'nother matter.”
“It's like swimming. It's gotta be. You said it yourself, the important things
never leave you, no matter what you're dealing with. You said hope isn't the
last to die, it's who you are. That's what you said. Which, by the way, you owe
me another swimming lesson. The last one doesn't count.”
“My my, all this convincin' for a horse? And why don't it count?”
“Clickers ruined it. I'm serious, Joel. You gotta build me that stall. I'll
help you. I gotta take serious care of that baby horse. Gotta do things by the
book right from the start. Dude, seriously, I have to get it to follow me
around and obey my every command. You know, like you did with me.” Ellie was
only half joking.
Joel understood her much better than she realized. Sometimes he lay awake all
night, his chest heavy with worry and remorse, wondering if he'd done the right
thing bringing her here. Everyone's polite, but nobody wants her around. Hell,
if they had to choose between her and a deadweight that's not infected, they'd
dump her on the spot. She must be so lonely, poor kid. Right about now, her
teenage body is hollerin' and screamin' for all sorts of things I can't provide
for her. She knows very well she can't risk anybody's life, so she stays away
and keeps to herself. No complaints. Always ready with a joke, always ready to
learn, to lend a hand. Never afraid of work. Got such a big heart, that kid.
They'd cut her loose, no second thoughts. And she knows it. Nothin' she'll ever
do for this place'll ever be good enough. Tommy and Maria may be different, but
I can't vouch for them, either. Can't say I blame these folks. She can still
turn. Or she can infect somebody. They got a right to feel safe.
“Kid, tell you what. You seal the deal with Maria, and I'll build you that damn
stall. How's that sound?”
Ellie almost choked on a berry.
“Really? Oh, man...” Her freckled face lit up like it was going to draw every
hunter for miles around. She dropped everything, came round to Joel and hugged
him hard.
“Easy, baby girl, you gonna squeeze the livin' daylights outta me,” he huffed.
He held her tight, planting small kisses on the crown of her head. Suddenly, he
felt her sob violently against his stomach.
“Honey, what's the matter?” He lifted her chin, but she wouldn't look up.
“Baby, talk to me. What is it?” Joel's heart was pounding so hard it felt like
it was about to break loose from his rib cage.
“Nothing.”
Ellie wanted to tell him. I wish you were young so we can hit the road and
spend the rest of our lives together in freedom. I wish you were immune so I
wouldn't have to walk on eggshells around you all the time. I wish we could
love each other the way we were meant to. If that includes sex, then cool. If
not, that's cool too. Dude, I'm not as horny as you think.
It ain't possible.
I know. Not a charitable world, eh, Joel?
No, ma'am. But I do love you, Ellie. By now I think you know what that means.
I know.
Alright, then. Maybe when the horse is ready, I'll still have one more trip in
me. You in?
I'm in. Just promise me one thing.
Shoot.
You'll never leave me.
Can't promise you that, kiddo. My days are numbered. You know that.
Promise me.
I promise.
Swear to me.
I swear.
---
Harran is the city where the game Dying Light is set. Love that game to bits,
so I thought I'd randomly throw the name in here.
***** Payment *****
Chapter Summary
     Things become unpleasant. Joel does some unexpected things.
The sound of an arrow being released through the crisp winter air. The entire
clearing covered in fresh snow.
The magnificent buck gave a low, muted cry, its bulky body faltering on its
spindly legs, then fell with a thud at the end of a blood-speckled trail.
Joel approached the animal. A translucent mist was still forming around its
moist nostrils. Breathe, breathe. The steady, regular heaving of its rib cage
began to slow. Taking out his hunting knife, Joel made a small incision in its
neck, quickly releasing what was left of its blood to the white expanse. He
then pulled the arrows from its body, examining the flint carefully, to check
whether or not they could be reused. When the buck was no longer moving, he
started to carve.
The were two piles of buck parts slowly growing, one to his left, another to
his right. The one on the right was his appointed portion of the kill. As he
was about to detach the second front leg from the shoulder socket, he heard the
other man crumpling the snow behind him, sled in tow. Joel turned around and
nodded.
“This one's got meat on 'im.”
The other man's name was Joshua Stewart. He was Maria's second cousin, had been
there when Maria and her father started the settlement. Before the outbreak, he
had been an Air Force pilot, and afterwards, a Firefly in Tommy's outfit.
Decent guy, by all accounts. Fair trader, reliable fighter. Also smart. He knew
the ins and outs of ambush tactics, had designed a draconian trap system for
defending the settlement. Had a wife and two kids about Ellie's age. People
here looked up to him, including Joel. Even Tommy followed his advice on many
things.
He was also Joel's only hunting partner of late. There had been quite a few
pair-ups over the 15 months since Joel and Ellie came to live here, but through
trial and error, these two men had found that their respective styles meshed
well. He was the one guy, apart from Tommy, who Joel felt he could depend on in
a brawl, skill-wise. Hunters were becoming more desperate, more ingenious. It
was mostly Joel and Joshua that kept them at bay. He was also the only guy,
apart from Tommy, who would never try anything funny with Ellie even if she
weren't a carrier.
They'd take turns bringing home the best cuts of meat from whatever creature
they happened to down in the forests north of the dam. This time, Joshua got
the loin, rib, chuck and round. Joel got the legs, flank, plate and head.
“Listen,” Joshua said, standing over Joel, who was still kneeling by the
dismembered carcass, arranging and rearranging the two piles like a seasoned
tourist packing a suitcase full of souvenirs that wouldn't fit into each other
no matter what. The two men each had brought a length of parachute cloth about
7 feet by 9 and about 20 feet's worth of climbing rope. All the meat would be
carefully wrapped in the fabric, tied and hoisted onto the sled. The two men
would then pull the sled back to the settlement.
“Yeah?” Joel said, huffing from the strain. Why isn't he lendin' a hand? He
hardly shot his bow today. Out of sorts, I reckon. We all have one of those
days.
“I saw you had canned peaches. Could you give me a can? Susan's birthday's
coming up.”
“Sure thing,” murmured Joel, without skipping a beat. How does he know about
the peaches? He ain't even talkin' of tradin'. His body was already tense,
exactly like it used to become whenever he sensed hunters behind rusty cars
waiting to pounce. Joshua must have picked up on Joel's uneasiness, because he
started talking.
“Uh, sorry for... I didn't mean to spy on you or anything. I was just on my way
to the generator when I walked by your home and happened to see you in the
kitchen fishing out a can of peaches from that backpack of yours. We don't have
much of that stuff left. My sons are growing, they eat most of anything we
manage to get our hands on...”
Now that's a lie. I know for a fact he's got more than enough to tide him and
his over till spring. I was there when he made that haul. Not like him to
forget who saw what. Maybe he don't care. Joel felt bad for thinking such
things.
Meanwhile, Joshua was sounding oddly unapologetic, as if he was going to get
that can of peaches with or without a nice story to go with his unexpected
assault on Joel's sense of decency.
“That's okay,” said Joel, pretending not to have heard anything out of the
ordinary. That's how it is, then. For more than a year, you've been hearin' and
seein' how I've given away stuff to keep the peace and protect Ellie. You
haven't said anythin', haven't stood up for us even though I've done everythin'
you've asked. I used to think you were just tryin' to avoid creatin' tension,
figured you relied on me to understand the situation and keep quiet. And now
you're doin' it, too.
He had forgotten how bitter betrayal tasted, mostly because after the first few
slaps on the face during the early days of the outbreak, he'd only let his
heart thaw out twice, with Niamh* and Ellie. He'd never let his guard down with
others, not even Tommy or Tess. With Joshua, it wasn't so much personal
affection as the effect Ellie was having on him generally. Simply knowing that
she was by his side, watching out for him, genuinely caring for him in that
tomboyish, awkward way of hers, trusting him implicitly with everything, even
his decision to save her from the Fireflies, had taken the rough edges off of
him. He would never be completely comfortable swapping pleasantries with
strangers, and he would most certainly not let anyone close other than Ellie,
but he wasn't as quick to suspect foul play as he had been in the Boston QZ.
His instincts and intuition were still razor-sharp as ever, but he found
himself less and less motivated to identify the bad feeling in his gut as
danger. He felt himself slowly reverting to the somewhat naive, idealistic Joel
he had been as a young father.
Nowadays, he frequently found himself gazing at the clouds, wondering what it
would be like to live up there. You'd have to survive on little oxygen.
Resistance to UV light'd also help. That flat one right there'd make a great
patio. Fire up the barbecue, open a cold bottle of Corona. Wonder what the thin
air'd to to a guitar's acoustics. Ellie was talkin' 'bout the clouds of
Neptune. Maybe that blue color's firm enough to build a grand ol' mansion for
us...
He snapped back. The sting of betrayal, compounded by the fact that he suddenly
remembered asking Joshua about the view up there, quickly ripened and fell as
disgusted acceptance.
“Come by tomorrow,” said Joel, hoping that the thing he was carrying in his
backpack at that moment wouldn't have the same fate. Nobody knows about it;
gotta make sure Ellie don't tell nobody.
The moment Ellie heard Joel's unmistakable footsteps – deliberate, firm,
centered – on the four wooden steps to their front door, she tapped the baby
horse's jet-black mane lightly, dropped the pitchfork with a cloud of hay still
wrapped around its prongs and skipped over the red manure bucket out of the
stall and into the winter in front of the house. He's going in to get the
cleaver. Eager to help Joel unload his catch, she expertly eased him out of his
backpack straps as he was crossing the threshold to the house, went back out to
the yard and went to work on the knots.
“Hi!” she yelled breathlessly. “Man, these knots are tight! What'd you do, melt
the rope with a flamethrower?”
Joel came out with the meat cleaver in his hand. He was frowning, deep in
thought. Here we go again. Now I have to wait, like, a week for you to come out
with it. Meanwhile, gotta cheer you up, old man, whether you like it or not. He
silently helped Ellie undo all the knots, then went to the wood stump near the
front gate. He took from Ellie one piece of the animal at a time and chopped it
into manageable bits. She took back the cuts and made small piles in the snow:
bones, knuckles, meat for stew, meat for soup, meat for grinding. Actually,
you'd have to use a microscope to find the meat.
"Hey Joel." Joel looked up. "I see you." She was holding the buck's eyes in
front of hers, pupils facing him.
She put every pile into its huge plastic organizer and took it to the basement.
They had set it up so that one corner functioned like a freezer and another
like a regular refrigerator. The thing only worked in the winter months,
though. And then there was the head. Joel chopped off the snout, careful to
leave the tongue intact. Skinning and prepping the head was her job now. At
least, until she got over the thrill. He had shown her once, and now she could
cook a mean pot of buck head soup blindfolded.
“Livvie's gonna be a badass, Joel, I'm telling you. You should see how she
trots, like a real pro,” she was telling him, dipping the wooden spoon into the
boiling broth for a quick taste. The filly was thriving under Ellie's
conscientious care. She fed it good hay, as much as the little thing wanted,
sometimes even more than Joel could procure for her. Kid's workin' her ass off,
buyin' that stuff for God knows how much.
She had named her horse Olivia, after the Kalamata olives she'd had once in her
life – a gift from Joel on their way to the University of Eastern Colorado -,
and which she wouldn't stop raving about.
“Duuuude, look at that gorgeous brown color! Joel, do you see how shiny her
coat is?” She was leading the tiny filly into the stall, ecstatic. He could
tell that some of it had to do with how happy she was with the new stall. It
still smelled of freshly cut timber.
“Sure do. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it's as almost as shiny as a
Kalamata.” Teasing her about those olives was shifty business, but he couldn't
help himself.
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him.
“You're a fucking genius!”
“I am?”
“This is Olivia! Of course!”
Careful not to yank too much at the lead, she nudged Olivia toward the bed of
hay.
“Olivia.” Thank the mighty Lord above!
“There. Hey you,” she murmured, petting the little one, her voice silken, eyes
sparkling with wonder. Like all babies do, Olivia nodded and shook her head at
the same time.
Joel watched Ellie ladle the steaming-hot soup into two large bowls. Not a
wife's hands. No, that girl won't make anyone a wife. A survivor's hands. A
survivor, much more than I ever was. She'll never let her spirit die.
As Joel handed Joshua the can of peaches in the kitchen next day, he saw in the
man's face the future: Pay, and we'll let you stay for now.
As soon as the front door closed on Joshua's satisfied gait, Joel turned to
Ellie, a dead-serious look on his face.
“You still got that polar fleece?”
“Yeah, what's up?” Ellie perked up. Another new thing. Cool!
“We're gonna cover the windows.”
“With polar fleece?” Seeing Joel impatiently traverse all the rooms of the
house, going from one window to another, looking out from all angles like a
caged beast, Ellie took care not to sound too that's-a-dumb-idea-ish.
“We have enough for all the windows?” How in the name of Jesus did this happen?
Was it somethin' I did?
“Dude, we have three bales. Each is 5 feet wide by who knows how long.” He
knows this already. What's going on?
“Bring the scissors.” Joel's voice was dangerously low.
After they were done covering every inch of flat glass, Ellie bumped her
forehead against a shelf trying to put the scissors, hammer and nails back in
the drawer. She groped for a while in the dark. After a good two minutes, she
managed to light a short, chubby candle and put it on the coffee table.
“Ellie, now listen good,” said Joel, firmly holding her shoulder while pointing
a finger in the air. “No more guests. Keep those things in the windows at all
times. Nobody's gonna see inside this house. Yeah?”
At this point, Joel would normally have that us-against-them look in his green
eyes that usually ended up with his arm around the neck of a desperately
flailing hunter. This time, though, Ellie saw hurt there more than anything. It
upset her even more when he realized he'd probably given her an unnecessary
scare and stroked her cheek, a faint smile on his dry lips.
“Everythin's fine, squirt. Nothin' to worry 'bout.”
She knew better than to ask. What if we want to air out the place? What if we
want to see if it's sunny or cloudy? What if we want to look at the magnolia
tree out back? What if we want to check out the UFOs? What the hell's going on?
Instead, she gave him the most comforting “Okay” that she could muster.
___
*For more on Niamh, please read Nettles. :)
***** The Ailing King *****
Chapter Summary
     The reason behind the weird behavior of the folks at Tommy's is
     revealed. Things turn dark.
Ellie was holding her palms against Olivia's silky black mane, tears stinging
her eyes. Like she always did when she came home from school, she first went
into the stall to check on her trusty pal, to talk to her. Olivia seemed to
understand every word Ellie said.
“She did it again, Livvie... Today it was those Jak goggles you love so
much...”
It was April, almost her birthday. Ever since she and Joel covered the windows
of the house, her schoolmates had been asking to borrow stuff from her. It
never came back. At first, it was an eraser here, a colored chalk there. She
figured it wouldn't hurt to play nice in a small community like this. It
actually made her happy to be able to help. And it reminded her a lot of the
MPS back in Boston, those tight corridors, the crowded mess hall, the dorm
rooms with sometimes up to six bunks. No privacy, no hope of keeping anything
to oneself, everyone knew what you had, and everyone wanted to “borrow” it.
Forever. She didn't mind so much, it was actually amusing sometimes. The only
thing she'd held on to was the Walkman Riley had given her. Riley was missing
since two weeks before. That girl'd better find that Walkman here when she
comes back. Then I can tear her head off for leaving without telling me.
So it happened that Ellie got that scar on her right eyebrow defending her
right to personal property. Pat Russell, a senior, had stolen the Walkman from
her room while she was blowing her lungs out into a gross-looking mannequin in
First Aid II. Pat, the senior bully, the bully to end all bullies. Double chin
from all the snacks she had extorted on campus, beady eyes darting left and
right in search of prey, towering frame, flat chest, hairy legs and a perfectly
hairy mole on the tip of her nose. Perpetually reeking of ammonia. If she had
been a nice sort of person, Ellie would have considered her the supercoolest
girl on campus, just like when you love your pug because it's adorably ugly. It
was Pat's murky heart that made her body unbearable to look at.
Only imagining those oily ogress fingers groping the things in her room,
stuffing her shiny Walkman into that baggy, flabby, crumb-infested pocket, made
her shudder. One night, Ellie strapped on her backpack – Like fucking John
Rambo, ladies! - and made her way to the senior dorm in the east building. She
knew the ogress would be in a drunken stupor in one of the rooms of the junior
dorm, the one precisely below hers. As soon as she reached Pat's room, a foul
odor stung her nostrils. Quickly retrieving the Walkman, which had been
carelessly tossed on the desk, Ellie made for the door. Mission accomplished!
Wait, shall we make this more... what's the word... experimental? She found
Pat's wooden arrows and broke them. Then she took all the ammo she could find –
What the hell is this shell casing for? Never mind, I'll ask Winston. - and
stuffed it into her backpack. Climb down the drain pipe, crouch-walk along the
hedge to the comm room, wait for staff sergeant Sally the Belly to go on her
coffee break, climb through the window and leg it back to my room. Easy peasy.
And everything would have been if she hadn't stumbled on an old, disused gas
pipe sticking out from the ground. As her head hit the asphalt a few feet from
Sally's turned back, the recon end of a broken bottle slashed her eyebrow.
“FUCK!”
Her head was spinning.
Ellie stopped up the oozy slit above her eye with one hand and her open mouth
with the other. She rolled quickly toward the wall underneath the window of the
comm room. Above, she could hear old Sally get up from her creaky chair and
lean out. The only thing to be heard was the electrical tension in the lamp
post casting a blinding white light somewhere along the fence.
"Goddammit. I'm hallucinating again. Where's my weed?”
Sally leaned back and started rummaging through her filing cabinet. Ellie
climbed in, blood dripping along the right side of her face, on the window
sill, on Sally's chair, on her desk, on the wooden floor, pit-pat, pit-pat,
pit-pat... Realizing the red trail would be a dead give-away, Ellie pulled up
her tank top as high as it would go and bunched it up forcefully against her
gushing eyebrow. She made it to her room in three breaths, her nipples stiff
from the cool midnight breeze wafting through the corridor.
Next morning, the MPS was in turmoil. Pat had beaten the crap out of her
roommate Irene, her sous-bully.
In this town, though, there was beautiful Morgan Simms. She was top of the
class in everything. How the hell can she remember word for word the soliloquy
in Hamlet? Why??? She can't solve the math problems, but she knows by heart all
the formulas, and that's enough to earn her an A+. Such bullshit. Everything
except Survival III. That was Ellie's turf. Mr. Harran was teaching that class,
but he'd been away from the life outside the settlement for so long that his
techniques were ridiculously outdated with regard to the newer behavior that
the stalkers were exhibiting. “The Hundredth Monkey Effect,” he had called it
helplessly, while Ellie showed him and the entire class a particularly
effective way to topple a stalker from behind.
Morgan's deep blue eyes flashed with endless hatred for Ellie. After the
business with the polar fleece drapes in November, Morgan, like many others,
began taking things from Ellie. They were growing more and more brazen. Today
she took Ellie's most prized possession: the Jak & Daxter goggles.
“Livvie, what am I gonna tell Joel...,” she sobbed. It felt stupid to cry over
a piddling thing like that. They're pink, for Pete's sake! It wasn't the first
gift from Joel that Ellie misplaced or had to throw away in a pinch. But there
was something about that pair of goggles, the way that old guy climbed a
humongous tree to get it, huffing and cussing among the quivering branches.
When he handed her the goggles, it was like he handed her his heart.
The pun books were gone, too. So was her beloved Naughty Dog T-shirt, the one
with the camo pattern and the white paw on the front. And the rad set of Pilot
Frixion gel pens Joel had given her for Christmas. Notebooks, crayons, a
protractor, her set of Savage Starlight comic books, two pocket knives...
Why had she given them away? She took her cue from Joel. He was doing pretty
much the same thing, only on a grander scale: meat, ammo, hard labor. Something
was clearly up. All she knew for now was that Craig, who took her Pilots, was
the son of Joel's hunting buddy. Gotta make sure Mr. Stewart has Joel's back.
Why isn't Joel hunting with Tommy, by the way? Marcus, who took her T-shirt,
was Craig's younger brother. Morgan was the daughter of the town doctor, Mrs.
Simms. Gotta make sure Mrs. Simms gives Joel the best care. She took from Ellie
the fancier stuff: her University of Oxford notebooks, her Buff scarf, the
magnificent Korean hair pin she wore when she secretly put up her hair in a
bun. Fuck, why did she have to pass by at exactly the moment I was having my
bath in the backyard? And now those stupid goggles she'll never wear.
“Maybe I should tell him. What do you think, Livvie?” Ellie was rubbing
Olivia's forehead like it was Aladdin's lamp.
Joel found her all cried out and standing listlessly beside Olivia.
“Ellie, what's the matter?” he almost yelled, taking her hands in his.
Before she could answer, Maria came bursting into the stall.
“Joel! Thank God you're both here. I need your help!”
“What happened?” His stomach turned inside out spewing acid, like it took to
doing these days whenever things threatened to go south.
“Not here. Come with me.” Maria was already out of the stall and running. Joel
and Ellie followed her back to her and Tommy's house at the other end of town.
Maria opened the door to the master bedroom. There was Tommy, lying on the bed,
shaking, sweat covering his forehead. He was paler than death.
“Jesus Chri...,” Joel whispered, rushing over to the bedside. Tommy's breathing
was irregular, he was drifting in and out of consciousness. “How long has he
been like this?”
“Since about five yesterday afternoon.”
“Why didn't you come get me then?”
“Tommy told me he didn't want you to see him like this. He said you've got more
than enough on your plate. He was mumbling about knowing things, I don't know
what he meant.”
“What about Doc Simms?”
“I have a feeling it's her fault.”
Joel and Maria looked at each other.
“Tell me,” said Joel.
“Let's go to the kitchen. You need to sit down. I need to sit down.”
Silently, Maria headed for the cupboard to fetch the tea pot and dried linden
flowers. Her hands were shaking so violently that Ellie took over the tea. The
woman sat at the kitchen table, her breath that high-pitched hiss you let out
right before you start crying.
“He's the love of my life, Joel,” she said.
Joel put his hand on hers. “I know.”
“People say this all the time, but he and I really are soul mates. If I lose
him, I'm just gonna put a bullet through my head.”
“Easy, easy, Maria, he ain't leavin' you. He ain't that kinda guy.”
“You know, I was supposed to marry Michael.”
“Michael Robinson?” said Joel incredulously.
“Weird, huh? My dad and his dad were best friends. The toughest, most feared
hunters in the North. They did savage things together, Joel. Right before Mr.
Robinson died, he made my dad promise that he'd make me marry his son. And I
was going to. Not a whole lot of guys to choose from. Then I met Tommy, and
that was that. My dad died angry and full of guilt. Not because he'd killed so
many people, but because he broke that promise.”
Maria caught her breath. She stared in front of her, tears in her eyes. After a
while she continued.
“Did you know that more than half the folks in this town are my relatives?
Uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces. If you count the other people my
family saved, it's almost the entire settlement. All of them former hunters or
Fireflies. You, Ellie and Tommy are three of the dozen or so people that have
no life-debts to the grand old clan.”
Ellie poured the tea into mugs and put them on the table. She sat next to
Maria, looking at her intently.
“Everybody hated Tommy the instant I introduced him, they still do. They found
out he'd been both a hunter and a Firefly, and I made up stories of how brutal
he could be. That was the only way I could think of to keep him safe. It
worked. I made up stories about you and Ellie, too. I'm sorry.”
Maria took a sip from her steaming mug.
Maria, you can't imagine the things I've done. Whatever you told'em, it's the
Disney version.
“Around August last year, Tommy started feeling unwell. He...” The woman was
too embarrassed to continue.
“He what? It's okay, Maria, whatever it is, you can trust me, you know that,”
said Joel. He suddenly forgot the disappointment, the fact that Tommy'd given
Joel and Ellie that house all the way at the other end of town to live in, that
he'd grown somewhat distant over the winter, that he no longer seemed willing
to go out hunting and fishing with him.
“Whenever he goes number two, blood comes out.”
“God...” Joel knew what that meant. His chest cramped up like it used to when
he was looking out for Tommy and himself right after the outbreak. His baby
brother. The one he used to babysit when their parents were away. The one he
taught to read, to count, to ride a motorcycle. To treat women and kids kindly.
He suppressed his desperation with a brutality even he rarely employed.
“We went to Doc Simms. She gave us some herbs and tinctures, prescribed a
strict regimen. He seemed to get better. The bleeding was less, he got some
color back in his cheeks. Then yesterday she came by to check on him and gave
him something to drink. About half an hour after she left, Tommy had a seizure.
Convulsions, non-stop shaking... He's a lot better now.”
“But why?” murmured Joel, enraged.
“I'm guessing it's because Mr. Robinson saved her life once. It's all
speculation, mind you. I've no proof. But I know how these people think. It's a
closed community, has been for more than a decade. It screws with your mind.”
"Why now? She coulda done this at any time."
"I wish I knew."
“Forgive me, Maria, but if this is true, it's worse than the mob.”
“Some of these people belong in a mental asylum. Heck, most of them. My dear
family..." Maria shook her head. "You two are the only ones I can trust. You've
no idea the sleepless nights, hatching up new schemes to keep Tommy in power.
He doesn't know. I begged him to take us out of here, but he kept saying,
They'll come around, Our kids are gonna grow up safe and healthy, You deserve a
better life than on the road, You've got a good thing going here, a model for
the whole world. Some model. Ask Ellie how many of her schoolmates know the
alphabet. How many know the multiplication table. How many enjoy torturing
animals for sport. It's a mess, Joel. They seem so nice on the outside, don't
they?”
Joel nodded. It all made sense. “And now that Tommy looks like he's about to
kick the bucket, the gloves come off.”
“Yes. I'm so sorry about this. In a way, I was incredibly selfish letting you
two stay. I thought having you here would strengthen Tommy's position. And it
did, until this happened.”
Oh, I don't think I strengthened anybody's position. Just keepin' afloat. If
you knew the people I've had to buy off... But now ain't the time.
Ellie spoke. “Um, I don't know if it's my place to butt in, but I knew a guy in
the Boston QZ who pooped blood. He was about Tommy's age, I think, around 40,
45. They said it was colon cancer.”
Maria nodded, staring into her cup. Her jaw started to shake; she broke down
crying.
“He got better, though. I know the cure.”
Both Joel and Maria looked at Ellie. Breathless silence. Then Maria smiled
through her tears and reached out to Ellie, gently pushing a lock of red hair
behind the girl's ear.
“There's no cure for cancer, honey. Gotta check on Tommy, be right back.”
---
When I reread the chapter, I realized Pat Russell is, in a nutshell, Miss
Trunchbull from the movie Matilda. :D
***** Grandmothers *****
Chapter Summary
     Joel and Ellie start working on the cure for Tommy. Their thoughts
     need sorting out, and I'm not about to do it for them. ;)
“God, I hope this works,” mumbled Joel, taking some time out between nettle
bushes. The frown that had seized his forehead the day before, when he saw
Tommy supine and laboring for every breath, had spread and burnt itself into
his whole face, like a map that kept growing with each new territory
discovered. In how many ways can a man feel pain? He stroked his beard in
defeat.
“Come on, big guy.” That's what Tess used to tell Joel as she bent down to pull
him up from the jowls of infected hell, offering him her slender, tanned arm to
climb with. The moment Joel jumped and grabbed Tess's wrist for the first time
in the Goldstone building, Ellie realized that the woman, Joel's smuggling
partner, was made of pure steel and little else. So different from the heroines
of the novels she'd been plowing through. Pride and Prejudice. Sense and
Sensibility. These stories were so incredibly odd to Ellie. Not just the
language, but the characters as well. She only read them on Joel's
recommendation. “Read those and you'll get where I come from. I'm doin' stuff
that'll send me straight to hell as it is, lettin' you do all the stuff you've
been doin' ain't helpin',” he'd said one day, when Ellie had pushed too far
asking for the millionth time to go out hunting with him.
LETTING me do? You're LETTING me? Dream on, Mr. Darcy. But she couldn't help
wondering how much of a stretch this was for Joel, living like this, the women
as fierce as the men, as sex-crazed and as blunt about it. And Tess. Had Tess
abandoned parts of her self to be with Joel? Had she had to choose between
being a woman and being Joel's partner? Ellie thought that, basically, women
were just like men, but with a different anatomy. Or maybe there was more to
it? Had Tess and Joel been intimate? She was sure they had been at some point.
But what did it mean to them? Somehow, she didn't feel comfortable prying, even
in thought, but she wondered anyway.
For Joel and Tess, living might have been very different from what she'd
imagined. I'm pretty sure you wanted to give Tess a world where she could be
both. And then she died. And you got stuck with me. A kid who knew nothing
about the real world, who was so small you had to look after her constantly.
Although Ellie had proven herself every bit as self-reliant and resourceful as
Tess had been, she still felt inadequate. Seeing him haunted by his old
unspoken pain was more than Ellie could endure. She swallowed hard, trying to
steady the voice that was about to convey thoughts not entirely hers.
“It's gotta work. I mean, it worked once, right?” Thin, very thin. With a
grunt, Ellie removed a heavy rock to reveal a colony of ash-colored lichens.
Her knife poking gingerly at some rotten wood, she carefully dislodged the base
of the alien-looking things and placed them in her basket.
“More like the same miracle don't come knockin' twice.” Joel gave the longest,
most tortured sigh Ellie had ever heard coming out of him. She couldn't help
smiling. Jesus, I'm rotten. How can I be enjoying this? It was his
vulnerability, his passiveness about it. It seemed so unlike Joel, and yet so
exactly like him. He needed help, but he'd never push too hard, not with her.
She found this side of him incredibly endearing. Not the kind of endearing
where you can't keep your hands off the person. It went beyond that.
“Relax, cranky toes. Who gave you all those medkits when we were on the road?
Who gave you stuff to drink?”
“Ellie, that was... You found those.”
“Shows how much you know.” Dude, I was the best student in First Aid. I was
gonna be a field medic, like my mom was a nurse. I was gonna bring back to life
this drop-dead gorgeous warrior king from another galaxy and he'd take me to
his home and make me his warrior doctor queen. Instead, I got you. Tears stung
her eyes. She loved Joel so much.
She began digging the ground with her knife, more like slashing it, looking for
something. The frenzied concentration animating her young body rampaged through
into Joel's heavy heart with a warmth that had an unmistakable sound, taste,
fragrance, texture and color. Ellie. He was awe-struck by her bloody-
mindedness. He felt calm again. Maybe even a little hopeful.
As he looked around for more nettles, his brain struggled to find something
more left-field to idle on. Is she doin' this for Tommy? Or is this for me?
Kid's loyal and honorable, wouldn't surprise me if she did it for Tommy. For
anybody on her side. For any breathing person, actually. Why do I need to know?
As long as Tommy gets well, what does it matter? It don't. It shouldn't. This
unexpectedly led him to the words spoken by an old woman he used to know before
the outbreak.
Two weeks. His wife had stepped out of the house for the last time. On the
coffee table in the living room were a box of Kleenex, an architecture mag
Jimmy had given him, some bills and a torn envelope postmarked New York. Beside
it lay a neatly folded piece of paper with thick handwriting, and two gold
rings: one simple, one with a small diamond. Joel was sitting on the sofa with
Sarah sleeping on his chest. She'd been crying for nearly an hour straight, her
tiny body shaking, her mouth gasping for air between convulsive sobs. Her eyes
were squeezing out tears the size of peas. Out of his mind with grief, he'd
closed his arms around his daughter as tightly as he dared to, hoping she
wouldn't come apart. At last, exhaustion had melded her puffy eyes shut; he'd
gently pushed her head forward over his shoulder until her chin found a
comfortable resting place at the base of his neck. A fine warm mist was forming
on her baby skin. “When your body works, you sweat. When your soul works, you
vaporise.” Ominous words from an old woman. He was used to their soft sting. It
was his grandmother, whose company he enjoyed very much.
She stroked his black hair. Weather-beaten, withered crone hands he adored.
British. This woman had come to the United States after the Second World War,
had married for love, and had lost everything in one big blaze: husband,
restaurant, home. She'd vowed never to work or own anything or love again. The
last part escaped her. Of her eight grandchildren, Joel was her favorite.
“Don't lose your bottle, luv. You picked the wrong one.”
Normally, he would listen to her accent more than her words. He was used to it,
but it still sounded wonderfully quirky, especially when she blended in some
Texas English. Now, though, it was all words to him.
“Nan, I did everythin' for her. I loved her.”
“Yes, dear.”
Whenever it was time to take a bath, he'd say “Ladies first” and hand his wife
a fresh towel. Whenever they went to a diner, he'd say "Ladies first" and hold
the door open. When it was time to decide who gets to go to college first, he'd
said “Ladies first” and handed her the truck's keys. She got a degree and he
got Sarah. He would soon realize he had gotten the better end of the deal. But
that day, he felt, not cheated, but betrayed.
“Then why?” Tears scalded his cheeks. He used to cry quite often before the
outbreak. He just took care not to be seen.
“Why she upped sticks? I can't tell you. Did she love you? Of course. You're an
easy bloke to love. It's not an accomplishment, mind you, it does nobody
credit. Next time, just make sure you pick a girl who loves you not because of
who you are, but because of who she is.”
“Don't think I got your meanin' there, but it sounded pretty harsh.”
“Or you could concentrate on raising Sarah.”
“Well, I ain't in a hurry to see anyone else. Reckon I'm done with that.”
“At the ripe old age of 22? Splendid. You'll change your mind. Perhaps 23 years
from now. I'll have popped my clogs long since and I shan't have a chance to
see you truly happy.”
“That what those Tarot cards of yours are tellin' you?”
“Why, no. It was the stars. The Cards and I are not on speaking terms. They
failed to inform me of a very important sale at Lucky's.”
Joel smiled. “You coulda picked up a newspaper or looked through our junk
mail.”
“Do you have any idea how many typos there are on those things?”
“Nan, please stay with us. Please. We'd love to have you. I ain't sayin' this
for me. The streets ain't good for you. Winter's comin'. B'sides, who ever
heard of a Manx hobo loiterin' in downtown Austin? You know, I can't believe I
have to actually say the words.”
“No, dear. But I will visit you three quite often. I might even be persuaded to
cook my world-famous shrimp and grits for y'all. It'll be a fiery affair. Where
is your brother, by the way?”
Those sinewy hands that had accidentally set fire to her entire life twelve
years before. Grandpa would've forgiven you and you knew it. You'd almost done
yourself in because of that, but you didn't. Why? Same reason as me. Bein'
here. Curious to know how tomorrow'll pan out. Bein' at peace with my deeds and
my punishment. Bein' with Ellie.
“This recipe don't look complicated. Surprised it's not better known. Surprised
it works.” Huffing, Joel helped Ellie push to the side a tangle of tree roots
sticking up from the ground.
“So am I. Winston said he had it from his grandmother. She suffered from colon
cancer, too. Actually, most of his relatives did. So when his turn came, he was
ready. ”
“You mean to tell me they all got cancer and they all got better drinkin' this
stuff?”
“Yeah. At least, that's what he told me. But, you know, it might not even be
cancer. It might just look like it.”
“And you got all the ingredients for him?”
“Me and Riley. He managed to get some of them on his own, trading, but he was
on patrol duty most of the time, so he asked us to try and get the rest. Well,
actually that's not true. He didn't really ask. More like we pestered him into
letting us do it. By that time he'd shown us a bunch of movies, who could
refuse to help? I mean, Rambo. Rocky. The Big Boss. Enter the Dragon. Come on!
Dude, Winston was a fucking cultural icon in the QZ! Uh, you do know what I'm
talking about, right?”
Joel chuckled. He had a feeling she wouldn't have stood idly by even without
the movies. Baby girl...
“Wait, you went outside the wall to get this stuff?”
“No, of course not. We...traded.” Ellie blew up her legendary mischievous grin.
It would have been visible in Andromeda if the Mooltrikonians there had pointed
their ultra-zoomy panopticon lasers in this direction. But they'd probably
witnessed so many zombie apocalypses up to this point that one more would drive
them up the wall.
“Here we go...” Joel couldn't help grinning, too. There was a story here, as
always, and he was about to be subjected to it.
“Operation Winston, Scavenger's Log 399584.948: The Morning the Poop Stood
Still.” Drawing a huge amount of forest air into her lungs, Ellie was about to
tell a long and complicated tale of friendship, gallantry, resourcefulness,
heroics and human excrement when a twig snapped about 50 feet away.
She felt Joel's large hand grab her shoulder and push her down to the ground as
the safety block of the El Diablo gave a thin click.
Two people were approaching, hands in the air. A man and a woman.
“Uh, hello? We're friendly. Do you have some clean water? My girlfriend here's
very thirsty.”
Joel gave Ellie the you-stay-here-while-I-go-check look and stood up, hand
firmly gripping the gun.
“You armed?” hollered Joel.
“Yeah, I have a bow and some arrows. And a hunting knife. My girlfriend has a
handgun.”
“There's a stream a few miles east of here. Good spot to camp, take a bath.”
“Yeah, we were just there. A horde of stalkers showed up and we lost most of
our stuff, including our canteens. We didn't get a chance to drink anything.”
Stalkers? Ain't seen infected in these woods in a long time.
“Alright.”
As the man and woman approached, Joel lengthened his stride to cover more
ground without seeming anxious. He wanted to put more distance between him and
Ellie. She had her palm on her holster. They seemed young, mid-twenties. Joel
held out his 17-ounce fresh water bottle.
The man approached slowly, took the bottle with a pacifying bow and gave it to
the woman next to him.
“Thank you. Roger Iwakura.” The man held out his hand.
“Joel Miller.” Joel shook the man's hand.
“This is Linda Fieri.”
“Hi,” said the woman, still panting from the sudden water supply.
“Howdy,” nodded Joel.
Roger waved toward Ellie, smiling. “Hi, there. Thanks for not blowing our heads
off.”
Ellie stood up and walked closer. “Hi. Ellie Williams.”
“Hi, Ellie.” Roger was Asian. Ellie had seen very few Asians in the Boston QZ,
practically none. He had long bluish black hair gathered in a pony tail just
like hers. His eyes were like black almonds and when he smiled they narrowed
into thin slits. Suuuuperawesome! Can he even see me?
His gaze was caught by Ellie's right arm. Holy shit, he saw it! It was a warm
spring day, she'd rolled up her T-shirt sleeves early in the morning in
anticipation of her hunter-gatherer mojo in the forest. She quickly rolled down
her sleeve. Joel tensed up.
“It's fine,” said Roger, waving his hand dismissively. With his eyes he asked
permission from Joel to tug at his own T-shirt. As he lifted up the hem, an
enormous bite mark became visible. It covered a large portion of his left
abdomen and back.
“Wow. Wolf?” asked Ellie.
“Grizzly.” Roger pulled down his T-shirt. “But yours is way cooler. Runner or
stalker?”
Joel and Ellie looked at each other in panic.
***** Mr. Miller *****
Chapter Summary
     Joel and Ellie talk it out. Turns out Joel isn't Mr. Darcy after all.
Think, Ellie, think!
“Neither. It was a hunter, a woman. She wanted my, um, can of peaches.” Fuck, I
shouldn't have hesitated like that. No way he bought it. Ellie's gaze searched
Roger's body language for clues to what he was thinking, what he was about to
do. Nothing. Joel had his gun ready to aim.
“Okay, if you say so. There's supposed to be a camp around here, near a dam.
Are you from there?” asked Roger matter-of-factly.
“We are,” said Joel. Steady...
“Would you folks mind if we rested there for a few days? Linda's pregnant, she
needs to get cleaned up and lie down. Just a couple of days. Then we'll head on
out.”
“Where are you going?” asked Ellie.
“L.A.. The climate there is easier to deal with. Linda can have the baby
there.”
Joel looked at Ellie. Ellie nodded.
“We ain't the ones who decide, but we can put in a word for you. This way.”
Could be a hoax. Could be hunters. Or Marlene's people. Better keep'em close.
Ellie led the way. She was thinking hard. Oh man, Roger knows. He didn't even
flinch. He must have seen a scar just like mine. He might even have seen me
before. I doubt even Joel can recall all the Fireflies he bumped into in the
hospital. Maybe Roger was hanging way back, like a sniper or something. Gotta
be extra careful around that guy. Joel's got my back. Which, did you see how
Joel asked me for approval? And then he throws stuff at me like those stone-age
novels. I swear, sometimes I just don't get that old man. What does he want
from me?
I want you to be yourself.
Oh yeah? Like spend all my time sewing bonnets and chasing after rich old men?
Christ, is that all you took away from your readin'?
What else was I supposed to take away?
We gotta talk about this.
Damn straight we do! Oh, Jesus. Now I'm beginning to sound like you even when
I'm talking to myself. That can't be good. Next thing you know, I'll be growing
a gray bush all over my face. That'd be neat, actually.
Maria welcomed the two strangers with due caution. She offered them the town's
guest lodging, a small house specially put aside for cases like this. Ample
drinking water and food were delivered to the house. People were advised of the
situation and were told to keep away and let the strangers rest. A couple of
guards were told to discreetly keep an eye out. Let it never be said that the
Stewarts are an inhospitable lot. They may hunt you down and take all your loot
as you shimmy off into the sunset, but within the confines of the settlement
you were treated like royalty. Maria hoped to God this wouldn't happen again.
Before letting Joel go, Maria asked him to take over Mr. Harran's Survival
class for one day. The poor man was sick again. Joel said sure.
Joel and Ellie were finally back in their house that evening. Olivia had been
fed and groomed, the stall had been cleaned. The magic potion for Tommy had
been brewed and poured into a glass jar to cool down, ready for shipping early
next morning. The floors had been mopped into a state of sparkling perfection
that hurt Joel's eyes. Ellie had done all this quietly, all the energy she
normally reserved for her speech organs redirected toward her arm and leg
muscles. Joel pretended not to notice, going about his cooking and laundry in
his usual laid-back way, but he finally admitted to himself that he was about
to pop an artery.
“Mind tellin' me what's wrong?” She's achin' to say somethin', must be impor-
“Why did you ask me?”
“Ask you what?”
“If it's alright to bring Roger and Linda here.”
“I always ask you.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because it concerns you. Ellie, what's this about?”
“Those novels you told me to read. Is that your idea of how people should
behave?” Ellie's face was getting redder and redder.
“The good people in there, yeah. What do you think?”
“I think I don't know you as well as I thought.”
“Now, wait a minute, Ellie, that was uncalled for.”
“Whatever. I'm not gonna be a brain-dead leech with tits and a hole for
anybody. Including you.”
“When have I ever... Wait, is that what you think I'm doin'?”
“You won't let me go hunting with you, you send me to that outhouse of a school
run by a bunch of morons, my schoolmates are drooling lunatics, you get those
stomach aches I can't do anything about. And then you ask me to make these big
decisions for both of us. I don't fucking get any of it!”
Joel knew better than to try to touch her in the state she was in. It looked
like her outburst had caught her off-guard as well. He took a deep breath.
“Sit down, Ellen.”
Ellie glared at him.
They sat at the kitchen table. Joel began talking, as soothingly as he could
without sounding condescending. He was frightened. He had no idea Ellie was
under such tension.
“Ellie, I ain't good at explainin' things, which is why I thought readin' those
books might give you some notion of why I have to protect you. In hindsight, I
realize it was wrong of me. I shoulda made the effort to talk to you directly.
I'm sorry. Fact is, I'm not lookin' to mold you into somethin' you're not. I
just wanna give you the time and comfort you need to learn about yourself,
about the world, at your own pace. I want you to have what I had too little of.
A childhood. You may think you're too old for that but trust me, you ain't. I
want you to be able to choose. You see, we're all taught how to behave and what
to think by the people around us. It's called social conditionin'. In my time,
there was a huge reaction to the type of stuff you see in those two novels. It
was called Feminism. Some of it was very good. Men were treatin' women and kids
like property and that had to stop. But most of it turned out bad, in my
opinion.”
“So you don't think men are better than women?”
“Lord no. Most men think they are, and many women do too, but no. In all things
that truly matter, women have the edge.”
“In what way?”
“They may be physically at a disadvantage, but they can give birth, and they're
usually the ones that teach children to speak, to read, to interact with
others. Ellie, women have always been the carriers of culture and ethics. A
woman's soul is usually richer than a man's. She thinks and feels on more
levels.”
“How do you know that's not more of that conditioning? You've been brainwashed,
I can tell. That beard of yours is a dead give-away.”
“Can't get anythin' past you, can I?” Joel smiled. “I don't know. It's just
what I've seen with my own eyes. What feels right to me. I ain't big on
theory.”
“How about men, though? There are so many of them. They must be good for
something.” Ellie was in the mood for humor again, a sign she had calmed down
somewhat.
“Sure. Protectin' and helpin' the women.”
“You're pulling my leg, right? You can't mean all that.”
“I do mean it.”
“But how can you say that when there are so many shitty women out there?”
“Mostly it ain't their fault. When Feminism hit, it hypnotized them into
believin' that havin' the choice of doin' all those things women are better at
than men is shameful. Tenderness. Kindness. Sweetness. Innocence. Havin' style
and good taste and manners. Thinkin' with their brains, not their loins. I may
be wrong, but I want to give you that choice, 'cause the world sure as hell
won't.”
A choice. Something Marlene never gave me. When I said “Okay” back then, right
before we entered the settlement, I knew this is what you were giving me. A
choice. Now that gift suddenly seems much larger. How do I accept it? I don't
even understand it.
“Do I, like, have to crawl on my knees to do those things?”
“Never. And don't let anybody talk you into believing that you do.”
“Then you'll take me hunting tomorrow?”
“Ellie!”
“Okay, okay. Um, so, does this mean you never killed any women when you were a
hunter?”
“I killed a few in self-defense. Other than that, no. I never killed no woman
and I never stole from none.” And I sure as hell never raped none.
“Man, you really are like those stodgy dudes in those books! Methinks you put
women on a pedestal. Goshdarn, you're a big ol' teddy bear after all!”
“No, that's not what... Never mind. Just remember that most guys are trash.”
“I know that, Joel. But it's kinda crappy to think men and women can't be real
partners in every way.”
"They can, but very rarely."
"Like you and Tess?"
"Not really."
"Was she too good for you?"
"I don't reckon. We just didn't fit."
"Man... But I have a hard time believing that guys are irredeemably rotten."
“It's true. Most of'em are predators. They ain't fit to be called human.
'Specially now.”
“Aren't you going a bit overboard? Can't be healthy hating your own kind like
that.”
“Kid, if you knew the things I know, you wouldn't be in a hurry to sympathize
with my kind.”
“Hm. Still feeling trapped here. Seriously, when can I go hunting with you?”
“When you're 18. That's only a year away. Olivia'll be ready by then, too.”
“Why 18? Dude, that's so arbitrary!”
“It is. Drove me crazy when I was your age.”
“Then why, for crying out loud? I kept you alive that winter, and I was only
14! What, you think those rabbits just committed suicide and roasted themselves
for your sweet ass?”
“You had no choice then. End of discussion.”
“Aggghhh! This is so frustrating!”
“Tell you what, kiddo. Maria just asked me to teach Mr. Harran's class
tomorrow. Whaddya say we show those schoolmates of yours some killer moves?
That oughtta calm'em down. I know you've been handin' them stuff. You did good.
But you won't have to after tomorrow, I reckon.” God, I wish this was true...
Nellie! Ellie had been smiling from ear to ear for a good few minutes now. Her
body refused to stay still one second more: she lunged for Joel, grabbing him
from behind in a loose choke hold, and rubbed the top of his head with her
knuckles. Then she suddenly turned all demure and coquettish.
“I shall retire to my bed chamber now. I have much reading to complete.”
“Aintcha havin' dinner?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot!”
Next morning, Ellie got up early. More like the day before. The sun wasn't even
up. She laid out her best T-shirt and pants, she brushed clean her sneakers,
and made a simple breakfast which had turned dead and blue by the time she had
the nerve to wake up Joel. On their way to the school, she was walking so fast
Joel had to do a light jog now and then to keep up.
“You catchin' a train?”
“Wha? Oh.” She slowed down. I'm so gonna show you buttfaces who's the Queen of
Andromeda!. In particular, she couldn't wait to see Morgan's face, anticipated
her zings with relish.
Joel introduced himself to the class and explained the situation.
“Hi, kids, I'm Mr. Miller. I'm Ellie's friend. Unfortunately, Mr. Harran is ill
so there won't be a midterm today. Instead, I'm gonna teach you a good choke
out technique you can apply to non-infected. Now, there's quite a few
variations, and some of'em take into account a smaller body size. So Ellie and
I'll demonstrate each one. Watch closely and if you have any questions, you
holler.”
The demonstration began. Ellie and Joel moved so smoothly around each other, it
looked like a minutely choreographed dance. Yeah, you like that? Who da boss?
The only thing we need now is some cheesy out-of-sync dubbing and a crummy
soundtrack and we've got ourselves a bona fide Kung-Fu flick! Everybody was
gaping in awe. Ellie was having the time of her life. Joel was barely able to
keep a straight face, especially when she had him on his knees, leaning back
into her choke hold, making like he was trying to escape. She was explaining in
a phony schoolmarmy tone the finer points of the variant, with a voice so loud
it almost pierced his ear drums.
Then came everybody else's turn to try. Each student had to experience the
choke hold and then apply it to the instructor. Joel would much rather have
split the class in two and let Ellie handle one half, but he was afraid the
students would be wary of touching her. He was relieved to see her nodding even
before his gaze located her for agreement. She stood way at the back of the
class, hands behind her back, looking.
The instruction proceeded uneventfully, in the sense that Joel prayed to God
these kids would never have to defend themselves. He'd rarely seen such lack of
awareness and motivation, even in the QZ. The only passable performance was
that of Joshua Stewart's boys, Craig and Marcus.
Then came Morgan Simms's turn. She had been staring at Joel and Ellie with a
smirk and inscrutable blue eyes. Now she was in Joel's arms.
The hell... Is she rubbing herself against me? Damn these teenage girls and
their hormones...
She was practically dry-humping Joel. Ellie saw it. Everyone else saw it.
Instantly, the class erupted into a cascade of whistling, cat calls, lewd
cheers, clapping. Ellie went into a boiling rage, only tempered by the
undeniable fact that the whole thing was hilarious. Morgan in heat. Nellie. If
Joel had shown any sign of embarrassment or discomfort, the comedy would have
tripled. But as it was, Joel, unflappable as ever, quickly released the girl
and asked her politely to return to her seat.
“But Mr. Miller, I haven't choked you out yet.” Morgan's languid eyes were
encased in a strongly flushed face covered in fine perspiration.
“That's alright. It's recess time. Thanks, kids, that'll be all for today. Mr.
Harran will resume his duties next week. Dismissed.”
On the way home, Joel asked Ellie.
“Who the hell was that?”
“Morgan? She's Mrs. Simms's daughter. I think you've got yourself a fan there,
Joel!”
“Psssh.”
“She's kind of pretty, too. Nasty as a ringworm, but pretty.”
“Hm.”
“Come on, admit it, weren't you the least bit turned on? You realize you have
to become her sex slave now. Otherwise her mom won't treat you.”
“That girl? Nah. I need more woman than that.”
“Whoa, confession time! Who, then?”
“In the settlement? Nobody.”
“Really? Hmmm, we gotta get you out more.”
“I reckon. But I doubt I know how anymore.” Joel grinned slyly.
“Oh, come on, that I don't believe. Big guy like you?”
“B'sides, I'm a married man, as you well know.” It was Joel's turn to be all
demure and coquettish. He seemed to pull it off better than Ellie.
“Oh yeah, Niamh. I still don't get what that was about.”
“Tough to explain.”
“Can you maybe try me again later?”
“Maybe.”
“You think those creeps'll bother me again?”
“If they do, you tell me. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Ellie felt happier than she had been in a long time.
With sunset wafted in through the living room window the sweet smell of
barbecue from somewhere in the town. Ellie could see the smoke rising lazily
from what looked to be the town square. Loud laughter, the sound of
firecrackers. People were heading that way in droves.
“Joel, check it out!” Ellie was pointing through the open window. “Let's go see
what it is!”
“After you, kiddo.”
***** The Card *****
Chapter Summary
     Ellie has a crush.
Ellie had never seen anything like it: people were standing around together,
chatting, laughing, hopping in circles, many of them probably for the first
time in years. There was beer and wine in tin cups and PET bottles and mugs,
fruit juice and yoghurt for the kids. The piping hot grill at one corner of the
town square was turning out one sizzling juicy steak after another: people
would enter a cloud of smoke empty-handed and come out with a delicious hunk of
meat on a paper plate. There was music blaring from a portable CD player hooked
up through several extension cords to a generator in somebody's back yard. The
noise was enormous.
“Wow! What's the deal?” yelled Ellie, turning to Joel with a smile the size of
Jupiter.
“Looks like a regular festival,” Joel smiled, looking at the crowd, squinting
to catch every detail.
“A festival? What's that?”
“Uh, people would gather to celebrate somethin'.”
“Like a birthday?”
“Sorta. But usually it ain't a person that's bein' remembered. It's an event or
a tradition.”
“Ah, so it's more like Christmas.”
“You could say that.”
Maria's voice reached them through the din.
“Glad you two made it. I was coming to get you.” She patted Ellie on the
shoulder.
“What's all this?” Joel asked.
“It's Roger. Turns out he puts on magic shows in exchange for room and board
wherever he goes. Tommy and I thought we might as well build a party around it.
God knows this place needs it.”
“Magic shows?” asked Ellie. Like, Skeleseer?
“Listen, I have to go back to Tommy. I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun!”
Maria was about to turn around when Ellie caught her by the arm.
“Wait, let me run home quickly and bring that jar of goo we made. It's all
ready, it just needs to cool down. You can give Tommy one dose tonight.” Ellie
disappeared into the crowd.
“Now, Ellie!” shouted Joel over some people's heads.
“She'll be alright. Roger's right over there.” Maria was pointing toward the
middle of the town square.
It was a real magic show Roger was rolling out. There were no top hats or
rabbits, but a kid's bracelet would jump from one arm to the other arm. Most of
the children watched in complete apathy. Thankfully, the adults had the decency
to clap after every trick.
“Guy's pretty good.” Joel looked at Maria. He really wanted to ask about Tommy,
but her face was so pale and drawn he decided to ease the conversation in that
direction.
“Looks that way,” she said, bobbing on her toes, itching to go back home.
“You think he might be hidin' somethin'?”
“I haven't found evidence one way or the other.”
“How's his girlfriend?”
“Resting in the guest house.”
“That guy saw Ellie's scar and didn't bat an eye. What do you think?”
“Maybe he knows someone who's immune?” It was clear from her tone that she was
offering Joel the most neutral explanation she could think of, and that she was
apologizing for it. She'd been harassed by so much misfortune lately that her
avoidance of tragedy was understandable.
How do I put this? Gotta ask about Tommy.
“I don't know what Ellie gave Tommy yesterday, but he's awake and lucid and
talking. Still in bed, but much better,” said Maria, looking at the show.
“Where did she learn all that?”
Thank God.
“I don't know myself. She knew a lot 'bout treatin' wounds when I met her, but
this is on a whole 'nother level. I did give her a book on natural remedies
'bout a year ago, but from that to this... it's somethin'.”
“You've got yourself a treasure, Joel,” smiled Maria.
“Reckon I do.” Joel nodded. The pride he felt was different from his fatherly
pride in Sarah. This girl had chosen him. Gratitude and respect and awe could
not begin to describe what he felt for her.
“Best keep Ellie's skills under wraps,” Maria mused, staring at Roger's nimble
hands.
“Yeah.” Joel's gaze darkened again.
Ellie was back, panting, holding up the warm jar.
“Thanks, Ellie.” Maria took it and hurried home.
“Did I miss anything?” Ellie patted Joel on the back.
“You missed a lot.” Joel pointed in Roger's direction and crossed his arms.
Scarves were flying every where, appearing and disappearing, changing shape and
color.
“Duuuude, how the hell did he do that?” Her eyes went wide. “Wha?!”
The tricks Roger was doing became more and more mind-boggling. None of the kids
except Ellie were paying attention. The adults were slowly getting drunk and
rowdy. A clear night sky had engulfed the town; there were so many stars
hanging in the abyss above that they looked like glowing goop about to trickle
down onto Wyoming.
“Tough crowd,” Roger chuckled, going from one thing to the next at break-neck
speed. Then he lifted his hands and shouted. “Stop the music!”
The local DJ pressed STOP, a vacant expression on his face.
Complete silence, save for the sputtering grill.
“I need a volunteer. Is anyone here a redhead? I need a redhead for the next
trick.”
People looked around at each other. There was nobody except Ellie.
Roger turned to her, smiling. Wow. Guy's really handsome! Look at those eyes
and those cool eyebrows! Like on the guy on that Kabuki poster in the Liberty
Gardens Mall.
“Miss, would you give me a hand here?” he said, holding out his hand.
His tone was the friendliest she'd heard from a total stranger. There was no
pretense that she could sense, and she prided herself on having a pretty
accurate bullshit detector. He genuinely needed help to save the show. It
knotted up her insides, as if she'd realized she'd been incredibly hungry for a
long while. Were people this friendly to each other before the pandemic?
Ellie looked at Joel.
“Go on, I gotcha.” He nodded, smiling.
Ellie approached the “stage”. It consisted of a kitchen table, a chair and a
brightly lit street lamp. The clan's eyes were peering at her from all around.
All 27 of her schoolmates were there, sitting cross-legged on the ground,
sucking on their straws, following her every move.
“Pick a card,” said Roger, holding up a deck of cards spread into a fan.
“Any card?”
“Any card.”
Somewhere to the right of middle. There. Ellie showed Roger the card.
“No, don't show me. Put it back and pick another one.”
“Okay.” Oh God, I made a mistake! He thinks I'm a complete idiot now!
The fourth from the left. That looks nice. Ellie's heart was pounding
violently. Dammit, my hands are shaking. I'm such a noob...
“Okay, there. What do I do with it?”
“Take the marker on the table and write your name on the back.”
Ellie wrote her name in capital letters. Now I've ruined the whole deck with my
shitty handwriting.
“Show everyone the card, both front and back.”
She waved her card in front of the whole town. Three of hearts. “ELLIE”.
“Put the card in that box over there.” Roger was pointing to a small metal box
with a golden lock sitting on a wide railing a few feet away.
“Take the key and lock the box.”
Done. Ellie came back to the table.
“You ready?” asked Roger.
She nodded nervously.
“Now go over to your friend and ask him what he has in his back pocket.”
She chuckled and walked over to Joel, her eyebrows arched high, arms flung wide
in incredulous anticipation. Joel uncrossed his arms, slid his hand into his
right back pocket and fished out a card.
“Whoa! No fucking way!”
She took the card from Joel and examined it carefully. Three of hearts on the
front, “ELLIE” on the back. Definitely her handwriting. She showed everyone the
card, making sure they all got it. Joel and a few others clapped, someone
whistled his appreciation. Ellie brought the card back to Roger, smiling from
ear to ear.
“Wanna do it again?” asked Roger in a low, conspiratorial tone. There was
mischief afoot. Ellie had to be in on it.
“Sure.” What the fuck! How did he do that? I gotta get him to teach me.
“Alright.” His voice was strong and clear again, like that of a commander. He
held up a red scarf.
“Take this and blindfold me.”
Ellie took the cloth, folded it into a 3-inch-wide band and wrapped it around
Roger's head, making sure he couldn't see down his nose.
“Take the deck of cards and shuffle.”
Done.
“Make a fan in your hands and ask someone to pick a card. Tell that person not
to show you the card.”
Who do I go to...? Hmmm. I know!
Ellie walked around holding up the card fan and finally stopped in front of
Morgan.
“Pick a card,” Ellie said, in a brash carny tone.
Joel shook his head, almost laughing. Kid's impossible.
Morgan stood up slowly, looking around her as if she'd just been rescued from a
3-week siege. While she was deciding which card to pick, Ellie added loudly.
“And don't show it to me.”
Roger continued. “Now you do the rest.”
“What?! Okay...” Oh shit! I'm so gonna fail. Ellie drew a large breath and
spread her legs a little for stability.
“Go over to the table, take the marker, and write your name on the back of the
card,” directed Ellie.
Morgan did as she was told.
“Now show everyone the card, front and back.”
Morgan walked in a small circle around the table, flipping the card on both
sides several times.
“Put the card in Mr. Joshua Stewart's shirt pocket.”
Morgan went over to her mom's old acquaintance and put her card in his breast
pocket.
No, no, no, Ellie... Joel scratched his head, anticipating disaster. Kid's
gonna be so embarrassed and disappointed. He sighed, crossed his arms over his
chest again and waited it out.
“Now go to Mr. Hensen and ask him to take off his hard hat.”
Mr. Hensen took off his yellow hard hat for Morgan. A card fell to the ground.
Everyone was able to confirm it was indeed Morgan's.
People were staring, speechless. Joel was relieved, stifled a huge chuckle. He
clapped.
Roger took off his blindfold and clapped at Ellie. “Brava. Your first trick was
a masterpiece.”
Ellie stood there, the deck of cards in one hand, her other hand on her
forehead trying to find her mind.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“You did magic. Come on, help me clean up the place.”
As Ellie and Roger were gathering all the props and putting them into a small
tube-shaped orange duffel bag - scarves, ping-pong ball, metal box with lock
and key, paper, stapler, coins, metal hoops, deck of cards – a short, stout man
with an enormous belly stumbled over to the table brandishing a jug of beer.
Half his brew was plopping around in his jug, the other half was trying to
escape from his huge unkept beard. Marty McHinky, town locksmith.
“Hey, sushi!”
Every adult head except Ellie's turned toward Roger. She didn't get the
reference. She just looked up, saw old man McHinky and figured he'd gotten so
drunk he was talking to his dead guppy again.
“I sed hey sushi!”
Roger, who'd been ignoring the owner of the beer belly, straightened up.
“I'm Chinese, you moron. I was adopted.”
“I din ask fur yur rezmay, kung pow.”
This is gonna get ugly. “Ellie! Come here,” shouted Joel, waving her to him.
Ellie had stopped packing. She was looking at old McHinky and at Roger,
bewildered. How did this go south so fast? Over a dead fish? Chinese people
don't like fish? She went over to Joel.
Roger stood calmly, putting more weight on one foot, arms crossed across his
chest. “What do you want?”
“I wanna see yu open that box, is what I wan.”
“Open it yourself.”
“I wil!”
Old beer belly put down his jug on the table, roughly parted the zipper of the
open duffel bag and fished out the metal box. He had some trouble finding the
key, and more trouble slipping the key into the hole of the lock. The box was
empty. He closed the box, locked it, put down the key and threw the box at
Roger, who ducked. The box hit the stone pavement with a soft clang.
“Are you done?” yelled Roger.
McHinky wasn't. He started running in Roger's direction, intending to ram into
him head first. Roger swished to the side. McHinky tripped and broke his nose
on the pavement.
“Hey chikin chow main!”
“Did you say something, haggis?”
“Why donchya go bak to yur gook continen?”
“Right after you go back to your limey island.”
“We stil remember wachya did in '41!”
“What are you, deaf? CHINESE!”
Roger and old McHinky were circling the table like a couple of pirates fighting
over a box of macaroons. Ellie had no idea what this was about. What's a gook?
What's a haggis? What's 41? She was, of course, rooting for Roger. The guy's
having such a good time, no way he's done anything wrong! When he passed by
Ellie, he crinkled his nose, winked at her and mouthed: “Watch this.”
“Hey noodle brain!”
“What's up, hamburger face?”
Old McHinky kept wobbling around the table, but Roger stopped. McHinky mistook
that for an opening and arched back to swing. He missed and spun around once.
“Hey moo shoo pig!”
“What's with the stereotypes, man?”
Roger suddenly composed himself into a shape Ellie recognized on the spot: the
Bruce Lee stance, complete with the “Bring it” flick of the fingers.
Oh fuck! This is gonna be EPIC!!!
McHinky drew out his pistol. Roger was instantly in front of him; with a tight,
jerky motion, he struck the middle of the beer belly with the palm of his hand.
It didn't look like much, but the old guy landed in a pile of trash 30 feet
away. Everyone cheered madly.
Roger came over to Ellie and Joel.
“Thanks for the help, Ellie. Great show.” He shook Joel's hand, winked at Ellie
again and walked away.
Ellie was so awestruck she forgot about her blossoming crush.
On the way home, she couldn't keep quiet. Joel barely stifled a smile.
“Joel, did you see that?!!!”
“I sure did.”
“Wasn't I cool? I mean, I know it wasn't me, but still, it was so fucking
incredible. And the way he punched that guy, I mean he barely moved and BAM!!!,
the guy was in another part of the galaxy.”
“He sure knows his stuff.”
“What's 41?” Ellie wanted to ask about the other terms she'd heard, but she
didn't remember any of them.
“41?”
“The fat guy was saying he still remembered what Roger did in 41. Is that,
like, 1941?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Psssh, Roger wasn't even born then!”
“He was referring to Pearl Harbor, when Japanese bombers attacked Hawaii.”
“What's that got to do with anything?”
“Nothing. It's just that the United States entered World War 2 because of
that.”
“Oh. But we won, and he was trying to rub Roger's nose in it?”
“Yeah.”
“What a jerk.”
“Funny thing is, some say the government knew the attack was coming, but they
let it happen anyway. Two thousand people died.”
“Why the hell?!”
“It's called a “false flag” event. Governments use it all the time to provoke
conflict and appear like the good guys. The ordinary folks didn't want to get
involved in the war, so our government did that to convince them to go with
it.”
“You mean like planting evidence?”
“Yup.”
“Jesus. Things weren't much better than in the QZ, huh, Joel?”
“No, ma'am.”
"And when McHinky said that, he didn't know?"
"Clearly not."
"Dumb. But do you think what Roger did was real magic?”
“Nah. More like misdirection.”
“Misdirection?”
“It's when someone distracts your attention to make somethin' look like
somethin' else.”
“But you saw it, it was impossible!”
“Sure looked like it.”
“Man... You think it's safe to go for a visit and ask him how he did it?”
“Now, I don't know 'bout that. Maybe if we both go.”
“Oh man!!!!”
After school next day, Ellie knocked on the guest house door, a can of beans in
her hands. Joel was right behind her.
Roger welcomed them warmly. He poured them some tea. The aroma was subtle,
unique. Ellie asked what it was; she found out it was jasmine tea. It didn't
have any sugar in it, which was kind of weird, but she enjoyed it a lot. While
showing Ellie a few basic coin tricks, Roger told them about his days as a
soldier in the Seattle QZ, how his little sister was bitten 8 years ago but
turned out to be immune, how some neighbors found out and lynched her while he
was on patrol. One of them was her godmother. She would have been 21 this year.
“Is that why you left?” asked Ellie.
“Yes. QZ's are a fricking disaster. I'd rather take my chances out here.”
“But what about Linda and the baby? It's difficult to get your hands on fresh
formula out here.”
“We'll manage.”
“How is she?” Joel asked.
“Very good, thanks to you two. She's sleeping most of the time. Bone-tired. We
both are. Thank you for having us.”
“We're glad to help.” Joel stood up. “C'mon, Ellie, let's let Roger and Linda
rest. Thanks for the tea. When you head on out, make sure to drop by our place.
It's the house with the blue roof right next to the gate. I can give you some
ammo and some food cans.”
“We appreciate it.” Roger bowed.
“Ellie?” urged Joel.
“Yeah, thanks for the lesson. See you!” Ellie bowed back. And I have no idea
what I'm doing!
“Bye bye!” smiled Roger.
When Ellie was sure she and Joel were out of ear shot, she asked Joel.
“Doesn't look like he's a hunter or one of Marlene's guys, does it?”
“My gut says he's legit, but we still gotta be careful.”
“Yeah.”
“You kinda like that guy, huh?” said Joel tenderly. Ellie wished there had been
more teasing in his voice. It was too earnest, it made her feel vulnerable.
“Kinda. For a while,” she admitted. Joel wished she hadn't admitted it so
easily. It hurt a little.
“I'm sorry about his sister,” she said.
Joel nodded. “That's what we do with our best hope.”
Early next morning, a heavy fist was pounding on the front door of Joel and
Ellie's house. When Joel opened the door, he saw Maria, Joshua Stewart, Roger
and six more men standing on the porch. Maria sighed and took a step forward,
embarrassed.
“Joel, we need to search the house.”
“Why?” Joel frowned. His heartburn kicked in.
“Linda says she saw Ellie sneak into the guest house and steal the magic show
props.”
***** Melding gun *****
Chapter Summary
     Old McHinky is at it again. He needs to go.
What the hell kinda bullshit is this?
Joel knocked softly on Ellie's bedroom door, the nine adults crowding him from
behind. His blood was boiling. It was a Saturday, she was sleeping in as
always. No answer.
“Y'all stay here,” murmured Joel, more than a hint of threat in his voice.
He cracked open the door. She was still asleep. He went in, closing the door
behind him, pulled down the polar fleece from the window like he had done in
the rest of the house. This was how things were done in the settlement. They'd
form a posse and storm the house of anyone who got accused of stealing. Joel
had been on many of these raids, he never liked it. He felt dirty traipsing
through people's private quarters, seeing things he wasn't meant to be seeing.
He'd rummaged through people's drawers in disgust. Now they were doing it to
him and Ellie.
She was upside down in her bed, her comforter mostly bunched up between her
bare legs. Her T-shirt had ridden up over her right breast, her pillow was on
the floor. Everything was normal. Joel covered her torso with a corner of the
comforter and nudged her shoulder.
“Ellie,” he whispered.
“Huh?” She fumbled instinctively for Joel's shoulder, keeping her eyes closed.
“Ellie, c'mon, get up.”
“One more minute.” She winced.
“No honey, you gotta get up now.”
“Mmmmmmm!”
“Here, put on your bath robe.”
She pulled herself off the bed and slid into her Blue Elephant flannel robe,
the one Joel gave her. He herded her over to the other side of the room; she
was too busy rubbing her eyes to protest. It had been a late night. Actually,
she'd fallen asleep one hour earlier, still raving about the card trick in the
town square, mulling over Roger's story, trying to remember the details of the
coin tricks he'd shown her. In the hour she was asleep, she had a disturbing
dream involving scarves, a metal box and a bat cave.
The nine adults came into Ellie's bedroom. Maria went over to Ellie and stood
beside her, holding her by the shoulder protectively. She didn't like this any
more than Joel, but she had no choice. This had been her ground rule, one she'd
laid down when things had started to become too raucous in town.
Roger was too rattled to look at Ellie, even as she waved at him; he stood in a
corner looking out the window. The other men began opening drawers, lumbering
around in their cowboy boots, much too interested in Ellie's girly nicknacks.
It wasn't long before one of them yelled.
“Got it!”
He pulled out the orange duffel bag from under the bed. It was all Roger's
stuff.
Ellie was still groggy. “What's that?”
Roger looked at Ellie, appalled. Maria looked at Joel. Ellie looked at the
orange bag.
“Ellie, did you take this?” Joel asked quietly. Of course she didn't. Damn you
Joel, you're goin' straight to hell for even utterin' these words.
“Take what?”
“This bag.”
“No.”
Roger went over to Ellie and patted her on the shoulder. He looked downhearted.
“Listen, it's okay. I'm not gonna file charges or anything.”
“File whats?” Ellie was feeling very guilty, still having no idea what this was
about.
With a sigh, Roger took the bag, hoisted the strap on his shoulder, and left
the room.
Joshua Stewart waved a finger in Joel's face. “Miller, you've got to talk to
that girl of yours. This kind of behavior won't go down well.”
“Josh!” shouted Maria. “We're leaving. NOW.”
Maria gave Joel an I'm-sorry-we'll-talk look and corralled the men out of the
house.
It was quiet again. Joel sat down on Ellie's bed, rubbing his beard, thinking.
“Ellie, did you let anyone in while I was away?”
“No. You said no guests.”
“That's right. No guests...” Who did this? Somebody with access to both the
guest house and this house. Someone with a grudge against Ellie. That narrows
it down to about three hundred people.... Think, Joel!
“Get dressed. We're going to Tommy's.”
On the way, Ellie put two and two together. Clearly somebody was after her. It
could be anybody. And now Roger hated her.
“This is creepy, Joel.”
“Don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen.” My baby girl... My treasure... Joel
walked like an earthquake waiting to happen.
Barely inside, Ellie asked Maria for a pen and paper. She jotted down
everything she knew about the recipe, including which substitutions were
possible in case an ingredient wasn't available. Joel found Tommy in the
garage, tinkering at his motorcycle. He was already on the same page as Joel,
sketching out a strategy in his mind. Joel and Ellie had to leave. Tommy was
well enough to go out and start throwing his weight around in a big way,
attracting as much attention as he could. Insinuations with horrendous
implications were going to be his main weapon, but the effect would wear off
soon.
“Joel, whenever you and Ellie are ready, you holler. I'll hold'em off.”
“You're not thinkin' of stayin'!”
“I have to. But look. This whole thing may be nothing.”
“Somebody snuck into our house and planted that thing in Ellie's room. I'd say
it's cause for concern.”
“I know. Nothin' we can do but keep an eye out. Don't be rash.”
My baby brother's a real politician... Joel was bitter.
It was Monday, around noon. Joel was fixing the faucet in the kitchen for the
tenth time this month. Running water was a marvel in a world like this, but it
vexed him to no end. Ellie was in the stable with Olivia. At least something
was going right: Olivia was growing faster than any foal he'd seen. A bright
one, too, just like her mistress.
Somebody knocked on the door.
“Comin'.”
Joel trotted over to the door, wiping his vaseline-stained fingers with a
cloth. Outside the door stood one of the men in the posse from two days before.
Flynn Channing, a mechanic.
“Howdy, what can I do for you?” I don't like this.
“Miller, you better tell that girl to hand over my welding gun.”
“Now stop right there! What would she need with a weldin' gun?”
“How do I know? Just hand it over, or I'll call a town meeting and have your
asses out of here by dinner time.”
Joel remembered Ellie's sage words. Endure and survive. He motioned Flynn to
follow him outside.
“Ellie! Ellie!” The only one in the stable was Olivia.
“There's my welding gun!” Flynn barged in and stuck his hand in the empty
manure pail. There it was, a welding gun that looked like it had seen many
repairs.
“What is this...?” Joel hissed. “Ellie! Ellie!”
She was nowhere. The basement, the house, the backyard, the stall. Joel ran to
the school. Closed. He rammed the door, searching every class room. Nobody.
He ran to Tommy's. “Ellie's missin'.”
“Holy shit!”
“You search the town, I'm gonna go outside.”
“Go on.”
Joel ran back home, quickly strapped on his backpack, loaded his El Diablo and
his shotgun, and ran to the gate. He asked the guard if he'd seen Ellie. The
guard shook his head. He let Joel through.
“Ellie! Ellie!” Between his heart fluttering in his chest like a trapped
sparrow and his stomach burning his insides, he could hardly see straight.
Before he realized, he was a few miles into the forest. There was no sign of
her, no tracks. Tears were pooling in his eyes. The knot in his stomach had
built another base in his throat. He'd never felt this helpless in his life.
“Ellie!”
“Shhhhhhhhhh!”
“Ellie?”
“Dude, keep your voice down.”
Joel looked around. The loud whisper had come from inside a hollow tree trunk
lying a few feet away hidden in some tall grass.
“Goddammit, Ellie, what the hell are you doin' here?”
“You gotta go back. NOW.”
“What?”
“Go back. There's a huge bear.”
Joel looked around. Trees. Grass. Rocks. The deep blue sky.
“Ellie, come outta there.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“I broke my ankle. I can't run.”
“You don't need to run, I'll carr-”
A deafening growl boomed through the forest. Joel spun around. A grizzly bear
the size of Mount Everest was hurtling toward him, its shiny brown fur jiggling
ferociously on its jelly-like blubber.
“OH SHIT!” Barely aiming, he fired off his double barrel. The recoil knocked
him backward; his heel got caught on a thick tree root that sent him flying
butt first into a colony of ferns. He scrambled to his feet and started
sprinting. No time to reload. He flung his shotgun into a bush and pulled the
El Diablo from the holster. Tree, tree...! That looks climbable. I'm too old
for this crap! In two upward spurts he was at the top of a tree that suddenly
felt too short on tallness. When the brown behemoth slammed into it, it almost
snapped. The tree was swaying so violently, he had no chance of aiming. He
twisted his torso, clamped the tree branch tighter between his legs and fired.
The bear fell to the ground.
“Joel!”
“I'm alright! Stay there!”
He climbed down slowly, making sure the beast wasn't going to pull anything
funny, and rushed to Ellie's tree trunk.
“Can you crawl out?”
“Yeah.”
As her face started to emerge, he could tell she was in great pain. The skin
over her left cheekbone was badly scratched; she was wincing with every tread
on her left knee.
“Here baby, I gotcha.” Joel helped her seat herself on the hollow stump, knelt
and took off her left sneaker. He felt the ankle for fractures.
“Ow!”
He started to rotate the foot by the toes.
“Joel!” She pounded the ground with her right foot.
“Don't look broken. Just sprained.”
“I'm peeing my pants from the pain, dude. It's gotta be worse.”
“Nah, you just need to keep your weight off of it for a while.”
“Like, till the end of the semester?”
“I'm thinkin' more like two weeks.”
“Fuck.”
“Hold this.”
Joel handed her the sneaker. He quickly went to retrieve his shotgun, came
back, and lowered himself to the ground on one knee with his back turned toward
Ellie.
“Hop on.”
“What? Dude, I can walk!”
“Hop. On.”
“Arrrrggghhhh!”
Ellie clambered up Joel's back. He clasped his hands under her bum, careful not
to touch her. She sandwiched her sneaker between her belly and Joel's backpack,
sole facing her. Just like when riding a horse, she held on to his backpack.
They – or rather Joel – walked a good 100 feet in silence before Ellie couldn't
take it anymore.
“Aren't you gonna ask me what happened? Or at least dole out some incredibly
harsh punishment?”
Joel didn't answer. He kept putting one steady foot in front of the other.
“Joel?”
Joel kept walking.
“Joel. Say something.”
The rustle of two heavy feet parting the forest grass echoed and died in the
breeze.
“Alright. Here's how it went down. Old McHinky came into the stable asking me
where Flynn Channing's melding gun was. I told him I didn't know what he was
talking about, since, like, I don't even know what a melding gun is. Then he
said his set of screwdrivers went missing two weeks ago and that I should hand
it over or else. He pulled out his pistol and said that if I made a sound his
guys were gonna bust into the house and go after you. So I put my hands up and
said Okay, you got me, I'll give you back your stuff, and I drew him out of the
stable and into the backyard. The plan was to draw him away from the front
door. Well, he unblocked the safety, so I figured I gotta leg it out of there
fast. I pointed behind him and said Oh my god! but he didn't buy it, so I said
Fuck it and jumped on the crates and over the fence. I swooshed through the
Vent and ran into the forest, but he followed my ass. Then that demented fur
ball started roaring and chasing us and he ran away and I hid in the tree. All
the while I was thinking, If I get out of this alive, Joel's so gonna kill me
and then he's gonna end himself because he loves me so much and I love him too
more than he'll ever know and we can finally be together like Marianne and
Colonel Brandon, only Colonel Brandon isn't a Colonel, he's a builder, and a
damn fine one, and he hasn't been to India only Mexico, and he's three times
his own age, and he can down a Bengal tiger with one hand.”
Joel didn't say a word.
“Um, so, are you mad at me?”
He stopped walking.
“I ain't mad at you. I...”
He started walking again.
Ellie cupped Joel's chin and mumbled into his ear. “How's your stomach?”
“It hurts.”
She pressed her cheek against the side of his head.
When they arrived at the gate, the guard shouted. “Hey Joel, you guys better go
to the town square.”
“What about?”
“Damned if I know. Almost everyone's there.”
Nodding, Joel walked through the gate, Ellie on his back. Here we go...
They were spotted by the townsfolk from far away. Everyone was staring at them.
Maria rushed over to Joel, helped pull Ellie down and sat her on a bench at the
edge of the square. Tommy was standing on a chair, clearly in the middle of
calming everyone down. Roger and Linda were there too, ready to leave the
settlement judging from their gear.
When Linda saw Ellie all roughed up and limping, leaning against Maria for
support as she reached for the bench, she lifted her hands to her face, eyes
aghast, and blurted out.
“I'm sorry! Oh God, I'm so sorry!”
Everyone turned to look at her.
“What do you mean you're sorry? You had nothing to do with this,” said Roger.
“Oh God...” Linda continued, horror-stricken.
Tommy intervened. “If you've got something to say, you better say it now.”
Linda confessed to planting the duffel bag under Ellie's bed. Roger was dumb-
struck.
Joel spoke. “Now y'all see Ellie here had no part in any of it.”
Joshua Stewart countered. “That doesn't mean she didn't steal Flynn's welding
gun.”
“Aintcha stretchin' it, Joshua? What would a 17-year-old girl do with a thing
like that?” hollered Joel, his fury beginning to show. Endure and survive...
Maria walked over to Tommy, traded places with him on the chair.
“Look everybody, this isn't how it's supposed to happen. This isn't what this
community was built for. Clearly, Ellie has been set up. We now know that Linda
is responsible for the first incident, but we still don't know who's behind the
second one. I'm guessing whoever it was got the idea from Linda. Also, I hear
Marty McHinky held Ellie at gunpoint, accusing her of stealing a set of
screwdrivers that he lost two weeks ago. She had to run into the woods, and she
twisted her ankle running away from a bear. This is unacceptable. Do any of you
know where he is?”
Nobody stirred.
“Alright. If he comes back, his running water and electricity privileges will
be suspended for a month. Also, his weapons will be confiscated indefinitely.
If he doesn't come back within a month, his house will be vacated so that
another family can move in. This is final. I don't want to see anything like
this happen ever again. If you have any information on who planted the welding
gun in Ellie's stable, you contact me or Tommy immediately.”
The townspeople began to disperse.
Roger walked over to Ellie. “Ellie, I can't tell you how sorry I am about this.
Here.” He handed her the deck of cards.
“Psssh. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Play poker.”
“Okay.” Ellie smiled. He ankle was throbbing so hard she almost yelled her
answer.
Contritely bowing to Joel, Maria and Tommy, Roger started walking in the
direction of the gate, never looking at Linda. Panicking, she scuttled after
him.
“Get away from me.”
“I'm sorry, I thought you were beginning to like her too much.”
“Are you insane? She's younger than my kid sister!”
“Baby, I just didn't want to lose you.”
“Linda, you're a cunt. Stay away from me.”
They lowered their voices, but Linda kept tugging at Roger's arm and he kept
flicking her off of him. From far away came Roger's exasperated yell.
“You're not even pregnant?!”
Joel sat beside Ellie on the bench, giving an exhausted sigh. She tilted her
head in the direction of the vanishing couple.
“You still think women are better than men?”
“Hmph. Let's go home.”
Life was cozy and quiet. Joel was doing all the house work, all the grooming
and feeding of Olivia, all the cleaning of the stable. Tommy and Maria were
dropping by every day, bringing supplies so that Joel wouldn't need to go
hunting or scavenging. Ellie felt so pampered she didn't know what to do with
herself. Her ankle still hurt like hell, but, boy, was life treating her
kindly!
“Joel, could you please bring me a glass of water?”
Joel brought her water.
“And some lemons?”
Joel brought her a lemon.
“And some honey?”
Joel brought her the jar of honey.
“You need a spoon with that, ma'am?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She had a lemon, a jar of honey, a jug of fresh drinking water and a spoon on
the coffee table in front of her.
“Joel, could you please bring me a knife?”
“A what?”
“A knife.”
“What? I can't hear you.”
“A KNIFE!”
“What's that?”
“Fuck you!” she laughed.
A few minutes later, he came back to the living room, hiding something behind
his back.
“That'd better be a knife, old man!”
He placed on her lap a blue box, 35 inches by 25 inches by 8 inches. It said
PlayStation 5 in white letters.
“Happy seventeen!”
***** Unusual Pet *****
Chapter Summary
     Some horrendous truths about the settlement surface. A bit of AU in
     terms of a certain gadget, but it doesn't affect the story at all.
“No way! Is this...? No fucking way!”
Ellie dismantled the box gingerly, eyes shining like the twin suns of Sirius.
“Whoa...”
Inside was a brand-new PS5. It was a Batman Arkham Knight gunmetal special
edition console with two controllers, one corroded plum and the other corroded
lime green, each one emblazoned with the Batman logo on the right grip. Since
it was a bundle, it came with the Batman Arkham Knight game and the remastered
versions of Batman Arkham Asylum, Arkham City and Arkham Origins all on disc.
But Joel had used his superhero Joel powers to put together a collection for
Ellie, as follows:
Dying Light 1 and 2
Journey 1 and 2
Half-life 2 + Episodes 1 and 2 and Half-Life 3
Portal, Portal 2 and Portal 3
Rocket League
Savage Starlight 1, 2, and 3
Angel Knives Redux
Horizon: Zero Dawn
Infamous Second Son + First Light
Uncharted 1, 2, 3 and 4
Bioshock, Bioshock 2 and Bioshock Infinite
The Last Guardian
Nether
Ether One
Tom Clancy's The Division
Tomb Raider
Mario Kart 8
Splatoon
I Am Alive
Sonic Colors
Minecraft
Need for Speed
Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
“This is insane!!!” Ellie pored over the fine print on the back of each disc
case, not understanding half the terms, not knowing what to say, where to
begin. “Joel...”
Meanwhile, Joel was hooking up the system to their flatscreen TV and the power
outlet. He turned on the TV and then the console.
Please press the PS button on the controller.
Joel sat on the sofa beside Ellie and held in front of her the plum-colored
controller.
“See this? This is the PS button. This is the R1 button. R2. L1. L2. R3 – you
just press down the right stick. L3 – press down the left stick. Usually, you
shoot with the R2 button, move around with the left stick and look around with
the right stick. Triangle, square, circle, x: these are for jumping, reloading,
interacting with your environment. Touch pad: this is usually for accessing the
menu or interacting with the environment. Directional buttons: up, down, left,
right – for choosing your weapons. Share – well, you won't be usin' it much.
Options: you access the game's basic functions. It's a little complicated at
first, but you'll get used to it. Just remember, every game uses all these
buttons differently.”
“Oh man oh man....!!!”
“So what do you wanna try first?”
“Savage Starlight!”
“Uh, you might wanna stay away from that for now, I heard it's pretty brutal.”
“Then what?”
“Try Uncharted. It's got lotsa adventure.”
“Awesome! Does it have dinosaurs?”
“Uh, no.”
Joel slid the disc into the console.
Installing...
“Oh man...!” Ellie's heart was pounding so hard she felt queasy. She wiggled
her toes nervously.
Joel went about his business, skinning the potatoes, sweeping the floor,
scrubbing the toilet. He could hear Ellie slapping her thighs and yelling.
“Move! Why won't he move?..... Oh, okay.... Oh my God, this thing's shaking in
my hands!... What? I didn't even do anything.... What? Where?... Eat this!...
Jump, Nate, what the fuck!... Pick up the gun! Pick up the damn gun!... Now
where do I go?... Hmmmm, this Nate's kinda hot.... I'm stuck! Joel, are you
sure this thing is working?... I died?!... Where am I? I'm not even in the
game!... Here we go... Deeestroyed you!… You gotta be shitting me!”
He gave a small chuckle. Her ankle's swollen like hell, and she's so happy!
A few days into her gaming, Ellie regained some of her composure. She recovered
enough of her awareness to ask Joel.
“How do you know so much about video games?”
“Uh, Sarah and I used to play together.”
“I thought you hated games.”
“Only the violent ones.”
“Oh. So you played all these games?”
“Some.”
“So, do we, like, need two TVs and two consoles to play together?”
“No. Well, in some cases, that'd be called online multiplayer, but we don't got
internet so it won't work.”
“Internet?”
“It's, uh, a network of computers sharin' information across the world. In
gamin' terms, this meant that you could play with people from all over the
world.”
“Nellie! So, like, I could play with people in China? Or Africa?”
“That's right.”
“Could you see those people on the screen?”
“If you both wanted to.”
“Huh. Now I'm incredibly jealous.”
“Life back then had its advantages. But this is good, too, I reckon.”
“Only if you play with me,' said Ellie in her low, throaty, mischief-inducing
voice, smiling brightly.
“And who's gonna do the work, genius?” chuckled Joel.
“Not us!” declared Ellie, exerting her God-given right to loiter.
“Alright, what's your poison?”
“What's my what?”
“What do you wanna play?”
“What do you recommend?”
“I say Rocket League.”
“Bring it!”
“How's your ankle?”
“What? Oh, it's fine.”
“Then you do the dishes.”
“What the fuck!”
By the middle of May, Ellie was sadly well enough to go to school again. She
floated on clouds. Her eyes might have been puffy from lack of sleep and her
butt might have been sore as hell, but she felt insanely energized. So many
wonderful stories, so many characters, the visuals, the soundtracks, the
freedom to explore! The choices she made that affected the whole outcome! And
the vibration of the controller, that was beyond awesome.
Video games. Riley came to mind. It made Ellie uncomfortable. Somehow, Riley
didn't fit into this picture, and yet there she was, hovering in a corner of
her brain, too visible, too intrusive. Ellie hadn't touched Angel Knives Redux.
The PS5 was Ellie and Joel's thing. The unexpected distance Ellie felt toward
Riley troubled her, but she'd been letting Riley go for a while now. It didn't
feel like betrayal, more like the strength to admit that much of it had been
youthful folly. Riley didn't seem all that overwhelmingly extraordinary to her
anymore. She'd abandoned her. Whatever else she'd done afterwards, coming back,
taking her to the mall, giving her the water guns, those were things Riley'd
done mostly for herself. The fact remained that she'd left, without a word,
letting Ellie worry herself sick, letting her mourn and grieve, breaking her
heart. That's not what real friends do. That's not something Joel would ever
do. He never makes me feel needy.
Her first Survival class after the twisted ankle proved to be a challenge.
She'd been lounging in front of the TV for a full month, moving only when she
had to go to the bathroom, to bed, and more recently, to complete some dreary
chore Joel made up for her. “Move it!” he'd say, snatching the controller from
her hands. It was barely visible, but she'd packed on a few pounds.
Today's class was a novelty for Ellie in other ways as well. They were going to
learn about strategy and team work. In an abandoned 3-storey mansion at the
edge of town, stations, outposts and lookouts were set up. Each student would
take turns manning one of these positions. The outdoor team would mount an
attack, and the indoor team would defend. Since the rest of the class had been
training for a full three weeks, Ellie had a lot to keep track of: secure the
windows, maintain and unobstructed visual field by shifting position, maintain
stealth at all times, never stay in one spot for too long. Her year on the road
with Joel – and The Division! - had helped her consolidate an instinctive feel
for the most effective ambush patterns and counterattacks, but she still felt
sluggish and weak. Gotta take it easy with those games, huh, Joel?
“Alright, gather round, everyone. Let's recap. What would a non-infected do if
they were trapped in this space?” Mr. Harran was pointing to the hallway
between the bathroom and the study on the ground floor.
Craig raised his hand.
“Go ahead.”
“He'd back up into the study.”
“And the reason is?”
“The study is bigger, there's a window, and chances are there's more light even
during night time.”
“Good. Any other ideas?”
Nobody had any.
“Moving on. What is an infected likely to do if it gets inside this space over
here?” Mr. Harran was now pointing to the middle of the living room.
“You'll have to ask Ellie,” quipped Morgan. Everyone laughed hysterically.
What. A. Bitch.
“Now now, settle down,” said Mr. Harran, frankly annoyed. The job was eating at
his health. No wonder the guy's playing hookie all the time. I know I would.
Wait, I do.
Ellie raised her hand.
“Yes, Ellie?”
“An infected is always more drawn to the small objects, whether they're moving
or not. It would probably head for the TV.”
“Excellent. Any other ideas? No? Then let's move on to the next exercise.”
Craig, Morgan and Marcus were whispering to each other jeering at Ellie.
Creeps.
It was Ellie's turn to guard the basement. The moment Mr. Harran blew his
whistle, everyone stopped talking.
Listening. Squinting. Feeling the air currents on the skin. Listening some
more. Crawling. Turning around to make sure nobody on the outdoor team was
sneaking up. Listening again.
The basement was pitch-dark. There was a dank smell of pickles and rotten meat
emanating from the moldy walls. Ellie was watching the trap door above her,
hands firmly gripping the paintball rifle.
From somewhere in the basement came a muffled sucking sound, like a plunger on
a carpet, and a few moments later the unmistakable click-click-click.
FUCK!
Ellie froze. She had no real weapons on her, not even her switchblade. Students
were prohibited from carrying weapons to school. She struggled to see in the
dark but couldn't make out any shapes.
Click-click-click.
Suddenly the clicker gave a berserk scream and lunged at her, slashing her face
with its mindlessly flailing arms.
“Help!”
The clicker sank its teeth into her shoulder, its iridescent arms immobilizing
her torso like a vise. Gnashing her teeth from the pain, she pulled up her knee
between herself and the clicker, making enough room for her to lower herself
onto the floor, pull up the other foot, plant it on the clicker's throat and
shove it off of her. As she scuttled backward, she bumped her head on the
ladder she had to use to climb up. It was standing against the wall.
“Help!”
The trap door opened, letting in light. The clicker was after her again, she
couldn't stay still long enough to take the ladder and secure it onto the
latches in the ceiling. Mr. Harran fired a couple of revolver shots through the
trap door. The clicker fell to the floor with a thump.
“Ellie, are you alright?!”
“Yeah, I'm fine. Please get me up!”
“I'm coming down.”
Mr. Harran jumped down into the basement. He helped Ellie onto her feet,
secured the ladder at the trap door opening, and helped Ellie climb. Her
shoulder was bleeding profusely.
“Lewis?” he shouted from the basement.
“”Yes?”
“Do you know where Ellie lives?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Go there and get Mr. Miller. Pronto!”
“Okay.”
“I'm gonna check things down here.”
Mr. Harran turned on his flashlight and walked around the basement. Dead
clicker, very small, probably originating in a 10-year-old child. Blue dress.
Probably a girl. This was impossible. He had checked every inch of the house
the day before, like he always did before a lesson. He kept looking around. In
one corner stood an old refrigerator. He hadn't seen it before. There was a
rope leading from the handle, through an elaborate rig, to a hole in the
ceiling. The rope was designed to do one thing: open the refrigerator door.
Mr. Harran had seen enough. He climbed up.
“Ellie, dear, how are you doing?”
“Super. Can I go home?”
“Mr. Miller'll be here any second. He'll take you home. Listen, I don't know
how this happened I'm going to find out. Okay?”
“Whatever.” Ellie was in no mood to allow herself to be comforted. She watched
Craig, Morgan and Marcus snickering openly in front of her.
Joel came running in.
“What happened?!”
“There was a clicker in the basement. It got Ellie, but she made it,” said Mr.
Harran, extremely flustered.
“Baby...,” huffed Joel, taking Ellie's hands. He winced at the sight of her
oozing wound. He took off his T-shirt, folded it into a 6-inch square and
pressed it against Ellie's shoulder. Ellie wasn't paying attention. She was
staring at Craig, frowning.
“Craig, did you do this?” Joel asked, narrowing his eyes. “Answer me!”
“It's not like she can get sick or anything,” Craig snorted.
“She can still get hurt!”
“It was one itty-bitty clicker. She can handle it. All those fancy moves?”
Craig laughed. Morgan and Marcus joined in. Morgan's eyes were burning a hole
into Joel's hairy chest.
“Craig, where's your father?”
“Out hunting.”
Joel nodded, barely able to refrain from slapping the three in the face till
they got a nosebleed.
“C'mon, Ellie.”
As soon as they got home, Joel put a lot of water on the stove to boil. He
rapidly took out from the drawers everything he needed: gauze, tape, iodine,
alcohol, sewing kit, tetracycline ointment. He helped Ellie out of her T-shirt
and took her to the bathroom. He tried to wash just the shoulder but her bra
and jeans became soaking wet.
“Kid, how 'bout you take a proper bath? When you're done I'll stitch you up.”
“Okay.” Ellie did as she was told. Endure and survive. Her pliancy sent Joel
into a mild panic.
Now it's getting' physical. She ain't safe no more. We gotta leave. But Tommy.
He's feelin' better, but for how long? No, it's gotta be Ellie. We're leavin'.
No we're not.
Yes, we are. You gave Maria the recipe, there ain't no reason to stay.
No, Joel. This was a stupid one-off thing. We gotta help Tommy and Maria. I may
have to tweak the cure depending on how Tommy does.
You're in danger. Brother or no, I ain't havin' that.
You don't mean that. I'm sure he saved your ass more than once back in the day.
And I saved his. We're square. It don't matter anyway.
Remember when you said you wanted to give me a choice? The fact that Tommy and
Maria gave us a place to live made that choice possible.
Alright. But not one minute longer than we have to.
Joel drew up new rules. No more school. No talking to Stewart or his boys. If
Ellie needed to go somewhere, Joel would have to go with her. So far, Ellie was
liking every one of the new rules.
Word got to Tommy and Maria. They cut Joshua Stewart's electricity and running
water for a month. Craig and Marcus were suspended from school for the
remainder of the semester. Further investigation revealed that the clicker was
Esther Pullman's daughter Lillian, who'd gone missing four years ago. Craig and
Marcus had found her infected and had kept her in a shed. The lacerations on
her body pointed to sustained torture.
Tommy asked Maria if she wanted to leave together with Joel and Ellie. She
flung her arms around her husband and held him tight.
“Thank you!”
He told Perry, the guy at the body shop, to repair the mini-van as soon as
possible: a big haul was due to come in a week from now.
***** Visualization *****
Chapter Summary
     The final chapter in this volume. A sequel is coming. :)
Another fine day in May. A few feathery clouds lining the blue sky, a bit of a
breeze, the sun not too bright. Ellie was hanging the laundry to dry in the
backyard. Joel was at Tommy's ironing out the escape plan for the four of them.
Which supplies to take. Which guns to take. What route to take. How to fool the
townsfolk into believing they had nothing to chase, nobody to hunt down for
sport. It was going to be sweet. That mini-van in the repair shop was
practically an RV, minus the toilet and the fridge. They'd have plenty of room
for her books, her console, her chess set, Olivia. Oh no! I hadn't thought
about that! Oh no... This is turning out to be another shitty day. I can't
leave Olivia. She flung the last pair of Joel's boxers on the line and rushed
to the front yard to get to the stall.
Morgan was leaning into the gate, arms crossed over the top of it, the forged
metal work eating into her large boobs.
Ugh.
“What is it?” snapped Ellie.
“Just visiting.”
“Shove off.”
“That's not polite.”
“Look, I know you planted that welding gun.”
“You got me. It must be that fine sense of hearing.” Morgan giggled.
“Bugger off.”
“Or else what?”
“Look, Morgan, I'm not in the mood. What do you want?”
“I want to see Mr. Miller.”
“What about?”
“I want to tell him something.”
“Tell it to me and I'll make sure he hears it.”
“It's none of your business.”
Mr. Miller, huh? Alright.
“Maybe you can catch him later.”
“I'll be back.”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Bye.” Morgan unclasped herself from the gate and turned to leave.
“When you see him, just don't wear that pink number you wore in class.”
Morgan spun back around. Ellie wasn't sure where she was going with this, but
she had to play her gambit. It might be her last chance to get Morgan back for
all the heartache.
“Why not?”
“He won't stop talking about it.”
Should I be telling her lies about Joel? And trashy ones at that? I can tell
her even bigger lies about myself, Joel will look like a saint. We'll be out of
here in a few days. She can go fuck herself. But first I gotta make sure which
playing field I'm on.
“Does he talk about me?”
“That's all he does. I'm sick of it. I can't even get him to... you know.”
“What?”
“I don't know if I should be telling you this.”
“What?”
“Have you, like, done it? With a guy?”
“Of course not. I wear a purity bracelet.”
“A what?”
“A purity bracelet. As long as I wear it, I'm not supposed to. My mom gave it
to me.”
“Why don't you take it off? You must want to.”
“I don't. Nice girls don't do that.” Morgan's tits were practically fusing with
the gate now.
So, neither of us knows about this stuff. Not really. Excellent.
“Oh. Well, I don't have one. I've been doing it for years. Joel and I must have
humped more than 600 times already.”
Morgan was livid.
“You... sleep with him?”
“Duh! Well, I used to, until you came along.”
Morgan's eyes were beginning to glaze over.
“You're such a slut...,” she sniggered in disgust.
“Hey, it passes the time. It makes you popular, I can tell you that. I never
went hungry in the QZ.” The times I had to will myself to sleep, ignoring a
gaping hole in my stomach...
“How... is he?”
“Joel? He's fine.”
“No, I mean.... in bed.”
“Aaah, so now I've got your attention. That's alright, girl, nothing to be
ashamed of. How he is in bed? Man, that's tough to explain. He's a....
monster.”
“Oh?” Morgan was appalled. Even her salaciousness was clumsy.
“He walks around the house stark naked, for one. Why do you think we've had to
cover all the windows? People were seeing things.”
“I never heard anything.”
“That's because you're wearing that bracelet. People respect you, they know not
to talk trash in front of you.”
Holy tamale, if she buys any of this, she's more stupid than I gave her credit
for.
“Oh.”
“He sometimes does this thing where his cock gets so hard he hoists me onto it,
you know, like you stick a bottle on a rack to dry. He walks around the house
with me, like, impaled on it. I have my back turned toward him, my feet don't
even touch the ground, and he holds me by my pony tail and thrusts really hard.
He can go for hours. I, like, jiggle in midair, it's loads of fun. Makes me
come real hard too.”
Dude, am I going overboard? Poor girl's practically drooling.
“Why are you telling me this?” Something was telling Morgan this might be a
trap. Phew, she's got at least one neuron working.
“To make you jealous.”
“Slut. Wait, Mr. Miller is also immune?”
“Don't think so. I'm pretty sure he mentioned having been checked for immunity
back in Boston, and the test came out negative.” This part was true.
“Isn't it risky, then? Sleeping with you?”
Awww, concern for old Joel.
“Nah. We've done it so many times every which way, he'd have turned by now. But
I don't bite him or anything. I'm supercareful. I mean, a guy like that, who
knows how to give proper cock, you gotta treat well, you know. They're rare.
The first time was kinda scary, though. We didn't know he'd be alright.”
“How did it happen?” Morgan had that inscrutable smirk on her face again. Ellie
knew she was on thin ice, but she couldn't stop herself.
“Oh, I was taking a bath. We were in the middle of the desert, the rain was
pouring like mad, the camp fire was roaring, and Joel was chopping some oak.”
No reaction. Lordy. Maybe she doesn't know about deserts. This could be a cheap
shot. Oh well.
“He had his back turned toward me. He was dripping wet from head to toe. You've
seen his back, right? He looked so damn hot I started playing with myself. He
was doing his thing, chopping the wood, when he heard me squealing, so he came
up to me and said it's always a pity to waste a good fuck so he did me right
then and there in the sand. Boy, I'll never forget the size of that thing. I
mean, I'd had a lot of guys before, but this... let's just say it was a
struggle for me to get it in. It's got these huge veins bulging out, it's
really scary-looking, actually. And the sounds he makes, God, sometimes I come
just listening to him.”
Thank you, Bearskin magazine!
“Oh.” Morgan began squeezing her legs tight.
“Yeah. I remember another time, when we were in this abandoned hotel, he was in
a frisky mood and I was having a head ache. We'd fought a bunch of hunters and
we were doing really poorly with our headshots for some reason. I told him to
pull himself together, but he wanted his pussy, so I said he can have it if he
can jump from across the room and land with his cock inside in a single try. I
lay on the bed, spread my legs as far apart as I could, you know, to give him a
fair chance. He went out into the corridor and started sprinting toward me. He
jumped into the air right at the end of the bed, somersaulted, and landed with
his cock in my pussy. 10 out of 10.”
“Wow...”
Facepalm, facepalm, facepalm....
“Look, I'm telling you because I know for a fact he's gonna ask you out. You've
gotta be prepared. We may be enemies, you and I, but we're also both girls.
That guy is the best fuck you'll have in ten lifetimes, but he's also a wolf.
Treat him well and he'll send you to heaven each time. Now buzz off, I don't
wanna see you.”
Morgan walked away in a daze, her gait terminally tottering. Oh, Morgan...
You're welcome. Ellie chuckled and went to Olivia.
Next day, around noon, rain broke out. Beautiful early summer storm, one of
those cascades sent by whoever was supposed to be watching over humanity, was
forgetting to water the plants, and was drenching the flower pot once a
century. It felt like a vigorous soul cleanse. Maybe that's what God's supposed
to do. Give you little nudges and hints now and then. Or really big shoves once
an eon. All sublte-like. Imagine a world where a good heart was handed to
everyone on a platter. Yeeeek!
“Livvie, it looks like I'm gonna have to leave you.”
Olivia nodded. Her coat was auburn, flaming like those autumn leaves Joel loved
so much.
“I know I'm being a jerk. I'm so sorry. You're just too little. You'd break if
we rode you. Well, if Joel hopped on you you would, that's for sure. You were
gonna be the best campaign horse in the apocalypse. You and I were gonna
conquer back the Earth together.”
Olivia blinked, giving a light huff.
“But the folks here'll take good care of you. Don't you worry. Unless they
decide to make sausages out of you. I'm kidding. You're a cool chick. You'll do
well.”
Seeing Olivia's wet nostrils quiver, Ellie teared up. No amount of joking could
erase the fact that she loved this horse, that it was her baby, that Joel had
built this stall for her with his bare hands. She'd poured her purest love into
caring for Olivia, the same kind she had for Joel. She'd spent hours and hours
talking to her, sorting out her thoughts near her. It tore her apart to leave
her in a place like this.
“Grab her!”
Two guys grabbed Ellie, one by the arms, one by the legs.
“Let me go, you fucks!”
“Easy, easy! Looks like we've got ourselves a fiery one, eh, Bry? Now give
daddy some of that sweet pussy you've been giving that old man. We hear you
know how to work a shaft.”
“Go fuck yourself!”
“That wouldn't be as much fun, would it?”
The guy who wasn't Bry was making sucking noises with his chapped lips as he
stuffed a dirty handkerchief into Ellie's mouth. His stubby fingers were
digging into her thighs, groping her pussy. He unzipped her fly and pulled down
her jeans. Ellie was kicking and squirming, but she couldn't stop him from
pulling down her panties.
“Look ye here, Bry, young pink pussy just waiting for cock. Relax, missy,
you'll enjoy it more.”
The guy unzipped his fly. Ellie was contorting her body frantically, her muted
screams lost in the torrential rain.
“It's alright, it's alright, you don't have to be so eager. If we all knew you
can't pass on the bug, we'd have done you long ago. Now if you're nice, we'll
even let you kiss little daddy. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
"Come on, man, hurry up, I'm reaching my peak!" squirmed Bry.
Ellie flung her knees wide apart. The guy stared straight into her pussy,
enthralled. She lifted her legs, scissored his neck between her ankles and
squeezed with every ounce of strength she had. The guy's neck snapped and he
fell to the floor. Bry dropped her and tried to hurl himself over her. She
scuttled back on all fours, grabbed the pitch fork and threw it like a javelin.
She put on her panties and jeans and ran out of the stall.
This is bad. Gotta find Joel.
She dashed to Tommy's, globs of water pelting her.
“Joel! Joel!”
He and Tommy were in the storeroom, taking stock of the canned goods that were
set to go into the mini-van.
“What is it?!”
“You better come quick.”
When she returned to the stall with Joel, she found the two men exactly as
she'd left them.
“Christ! What happened?!”
“They tried to rape me.”
“Did they...?”
“No.”
Joel pulled the two bodies deep into the stall past Olivia, yanked the
pitchfork from Bry's rib cage and covered the two bodies with hay.
“Inside. Get our gear. Bare minimum. Be right back.”
He was out before Ellie could yell, “What about Tommy and Maria?”
Ellie threw her things into her backpack: meds, natural remedies book, change
of clothes, soap, Rocket League, pistol ammo, two cans of beans, jar of
blueberry jam, aluminum pot, flint and steel, bottle of fresh water. She threw
Joel's stuff into his backpack: three packs of rice, a pack of lentils, gauze,
rope, a jar of honey, El Diablo ammo, shotgun bucks, hunting rifle ammo,
revolver ammo, ten arrows, change of clothes, bottle of fresh water, Ellie's
snow globe.
Adios, ladies! Goodbye, Livvie...
Joel came back riding Atlas, his favorite horse in the town stable. It was a
dapple gray stallion, a work horse with unparalleled stamina. He dismounted;
she handed him his backpack, his El Diablo, shotgun, bow, hunting rifle and
Smith&Wesson. He handed her the Jak goggles.
“Wha...?!”
“Get on.”
Thunder, lightning and the good Lord's mighty tides wiping sin off the Earth.
Joel and Ellie reached the gate, completely drenched. The guard shouted over
the din.
“You folks going out? At a time like this?”
“Yeah, we've got a drop to make. We're late.”
“Alright. Stay safe.”
“You too.”
The gate opened.
“You good?” asked Joel, looking over his shoulder.
“I'm good,” Ellie answered, holding on to the top of his backpack.
“Hang on tight.”
End Notes
     The more I think about it, the more I feel that what Joel and Ellie
     have together is so unique that even a community like Tommy's isn't
     going to get used to their presence. This volume will have a sequel.
     :)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!