Missing You...
After a wonderful first swimming lesson, Joel and Ellie made their way back. The day was well spent, Ellie was slowly getting the hang of swimming, but a few hours out by the river really worked up an appetite. Ellie had her homemade linen towel hanging on her shoulder while Joel had his boots on with his shirt off wearing his wet cargo shorts carrying his own linen towel. His backpack he wore, and as usual, had his rifle hanging by its belt. Ellie may have looked innocent in her purple one piece bathing suit, but she still had a pistol and a bow and arrow ready for any hunter or infected that would ruin their day.
"You did really good, I'm proud of you baby girl" Joel praised Ellie.
"I still don't trust myself just yet, but I'm startin' to feel better about it" Ellie replied humbly.
"Just remember the dog paddle technique I taught you, it's the easiest. We'll work on that more next lesson" Joel reassured.
"I'm so hungry I could eat a bear" Ellie rubbed her growling belly.
"I hear ya, my stomach is hollerin' at me too. I think Tommy and Maria will have lunch ready when we git back" Joel agreed.
The two walked back admiring the beautiful day. Not a single cloud was in the sky, and the sun made everything look more radiant with color. The temperature sat just under eighty degrees Fahrenheit. Ellie saw a lone squirrel foraging and dashing up a tree storing what it had found as they approached the gate. It continued working diligently at its task.
"You know that reminds me…" Ellie said as Joel waved at the guards at the gate.
"What's that?" Joel nodded as the guards acknowledged him opening the gate.
"I wonder whatever happened to Bill?" Ellie replied as they walked in.
"What made you think about him? He wasn't exactly your favorite person" Joel asked a little surprised.
"Well seeing a squirrel work so hard by itself did actually…" Ellie answered.
"Hmph, I always thought Bill was more than bit of squirrelly kind of guy" Joel joked.
"Despite the fact he was a major dick, he really helped us… I couldn't help but think about how he's doing these days?" Ellie explained.
"Who knows…things get too bad he could always return back to the quarantine zone" Joel turned watched the guards close the gate behind them.
"So you think he's still alive?" Ellie asked seriously.
"From what I know of Bill…" Joel thought for a moment in light of what he learned about his old buddy.
"He's pretty tough, at least that's what he shows and to a certain extent he really is, but…" Joel paused as they began walking towards their area.
"But?" Ellie prompted him.
"He's a very complicated individual Ellie, as you know, losing someone close does strange things to you" Joel explained.
"No doubt" Ellie agreed.
"Plus Bill's lifestyle is a bit…unique" Joel said tactfully.
"You mean he's gay?" Ellie said bluntly.
"Well…yea, but hey, whatever floats your boat I guess…" Joel nodded laughing still surprised by Ellie's maturity.
"I don't think someone's sexuality determines how well they can survive papa bear…" Ellie shook her head.
"I didn't mean that but…" Joel didn't know what to say knowing Ellie was showing her years beyond her age again.
"I knew a couple of women who could have probably kicked your ass when I was a little girl. Marlene was friends with them and she had me call them my aunts… but I knew they were more than friends…" Ellie smirked.
"Shit! What do you mean when you were a little girl?! You still are!" Joel laughed as they went into their little building they called home.
"Bite me!" Ellie laughed.
"Well maybe next time if we're ever back down that way will have to drop in on him" Joel laughed.
"Yea right! That guy might blow us up next time as crazy as he is!" Ellie laughed even harder.
XXXXXXXXXX
Back across on the opposite side of the country, an acquaintance sits down in his well fenced, well trapped, and well patrolled area. He wakes up as usual with the sun, and thankfully the night before was uneventful. Bill heated some water and used a filter to make some homemade tea. Bill preferred his morning coffee, but due to the current circumstances of coffee supplies he grew and made his own tea. Bill always wanted to have his own bee farm, but realized how a situation could go from fine to escaping with your life making it a futile effort.
He began loading his weapons carefully and compulsively counting his ammunition caches he had in his trailer. He counted well over eight hundred 9mm pistol bullets he had stored.
"Not the most powerful weapon, but plenty handy" Bill said out loud.
He opened a green plastic chest which he counted just over two hundred shotgun shells.
"May have to go out and hunt more supplies soon" Bill nodded remembering a week ago using almost fifty to deal with a crowd of clickers and runners a block away gathering after hearing a group of neighborhood dogs barking. He also remembered the oil he used to douse the corpses and set them on fire to prevent the dead from creating a horrible stench near his main base.
On the opposite side of his green plastic chest, he counted all of his hunting rifle ammo.
"Fuck!" Bill cursed. After a moment of counting, he realized he had used more than he had thought. He had exactly sixty rounds left. Joel would have easily thought this was plenty, but not Bill. He always believed in having a surplus of goods just in case.
"Shit! Damnit!" Bill went on agitated.
He threw on his army gear including his gas mask and his sharp trusty kukri stepping outside his barricaded trailer. He opened the trunk of an old car nearby and pulled out a set of pliers and a spool of tripwire. Bill scanned the trunk and found the two sacks labeled for his nail bombs he kept his ingredients in. He quickly grabbed them and began to do his normal routine to begin his day.
A couple of stray dogs were wondering near one of his traps when he arrived near the outer eastern corridor of his base.
"Now go on! Get out of here damnit!" Bill shouted at the stray dogs. The two mismatched multicolored medium size mutts looked at him a bit confused.
"I said go Goddmanit!" Bill said pointing his gun.
The dogs looked at him one last time pitifully and took off running in the opposite direction. Bill couldn't tell if the dog's were giving him those sad eyes because they wanted something or worse; they were pitying him.
"You want your asses blown off?! Now stay gone!" Bill scolded.
The dogs continued to scamper off until they turned a corner down a street.
"I aint got time for you!" Bill said as he inspected the east outer area of his perimeter.
Bill remembered at one time he and Frank had a German Shepherd named Fang, but when Frank left he took Fang with him. What became of the poor dog was unknown.
"Traitor!" Bill sneered as he began working his way back inward inspecting the traps and barbed fence.
Bill retrieved some barbed wire from a spool in a nearby building. He made barbed more areas making it more difficult for would be intruders, infected and well. After a few hours of work, Bill took a break returning back to his trailer. He took a few bites of some dried jerky he had and drank some of the filtered bottled water he had gotten from a box of food rations doled out by the military he had smuggled back to his place. He had a solar cell on top of his trailer which made just enough energy to power up his small fridge, a small makeshift hot water heater which caught rainwater, and an old record player.
He walked over to his compound bow he had recently found a week ago hidden in the attic of an old house. He counted the arrows he had left quietly. There were thirty-five. He shook his head taking the bow, his binoculars, and five arrows and decided to continue making his rounds. Carefully scanning the area he saw a lone clicker out in the distance.
"Here's my target practice for the day" Bill smirked aiming carefully and firing the arrow. It whizzed many yards until it came to rest in the clicker's head forever silencing it. Bill nodded with satisfaction.
Just as he was making his way toward the western side of his perimeter at the very end, he found a clicker had set a trap off. It had been blown to bits with just pieces of it lying around.
"Good job!" Bill smiled as if rewarding the trap itself.
Bill inspected the area carefully making sure there were no other interlopers nearby and got to work. He reset the trap with the tripwire and very carefully crafted his bomb and attached it to metal pipe after he placed it in the ground. He made another level a couple feet above the other carefully setting it too before stepping back and admiring his own work.
Anyone or thing not wary of the trap would easily be blown to kingdom come. Upon further inspection Bill was satisfied the other traps had not been disturbed. He decided to get some more barb wire and reinforce some other areas along his perimeter walls. A small group of geese distracted him momentarily as they flew overhead in the western direction causing him to pause for a moment.
"I wonder how Joel and that little punk are faring out there?" Bill said rhetorically.
"Aw fuck 'em" Bill said climbing down the ladder stashing it back in the place he had it.
Bill took a deep breath and returned back to his little trailer. It was now mid-afternoon and Bill decided all was well. He returned his weaponry back to its place for the time being and grabbed another piece of jerky; of course, there was always a weapon or two in reach.
Shortly after, Bill decided to grab a book which he hadn't read more than ten times. He saw one book underneath a pile that caught his eye for some reason and deftly yanked it out from under. It was Cormac McCarthy's "The Road". He looked at it half-heartedly and tossed it back down.
"Don't need to read that depressing shit again" Bill muttered under his breath.
"Things suck, but not that much!" Bill shook his head.
Bill eyed the stack of books and finally found a story he thought was worthy of his attention. When he looked closer at the title, "The Green Mile", he threw it down and something fell out. Bill quickly bent down and snatched what seemed to be a photo. It was a photo of his self and his late partner Frank displaying their catches dressed in army camouflage standing on an old wharf out in Maine. Each of them was pointing to their own catfish which were both equal sizes. The picture was just about six years old according to Bill's recollections.
"Hmph!" Bill said picking up the book which was a favorite of Frank's putting the photo back in.
The photo was during an outing he, Frank, a couple of smuggler associates from the quarantine zone went on. They were fishing during an out of town mission which paid handsome food rations and ammunition from the Fireflies. Bill began to remember the photo bit clearly. During the trip to some obscure town in Maine, they stopped to fish and one of the associate smugglers took their picture for them. It hadn't been that long since Frank left him and the wounds were still open. Seeing that photo stung him hard. It was painful reminder of a time he was happy and a different person. There were quite a few good times they had, but things toward the end began to go south when Frank wanted to go elsewhere and Bill wanted to stay. They argued and argued until one morning Bill woke up and Frank was gone.
Bill went to his secret stash and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured him a couple shots. He took a seat and held up his glass.
"Here's to you Frank…and here's to Hell!" Bill laughed then drank the first shot.
"You got exactly what you deserved!" Bill said harshly drinking more shots. "Stealin' my shit!" he ranted.
He quickly poured another one and capped the bottle and sat on his couch as the buzz began to kick in.
"I'm not missing you a bit!" Bill said taking the last shot.
"Not a damn bit!" he said putting his glass down as a single tear rolled down his cheek.