"You know the drill; let's see what we can find."
Joel's voice carried to her over the gentle breeze, the final gurgled screeches of the two runners they'd stumbled over moments ago finally silenced. After Pittsburg and Colorado, the pair had wizened enough to give anywhere that might have once been a hub of civilization a wide berth, but they had run low on supplies. With days to go before even getting close to their destination, Joel pulled them off the highway to investigate a long-abandoned truck stop with a collection of what might have once been restaurants, and what remained of a burnt out motel to see if they couldn't scrounge something up.
It was in the back of one of the smaller buildings that Ellie uncovered a small trove of food that someone had squared away in a partially chewed open plastic bin.
"Score," she murmured quietly, stomach already starting to rumble.
Whatever had done the chewing had eaten through everything that wasn't in a tin long ago, but there were several canned goods that she and Joel could make a decent meal out of.
One of them caught her eye; the paper label was almost entirely rotted away and a plastic lid partially chewed through much like everything else that wasn't metal in the bunch, but the aluminium seal beneath was miraculously still intact. She gave it a shake and the contents rustled lightly, sounding powdered. With a shrug, she set it back in the bin and picked the whole thing up, trotting triumphantly into the overgrown car lot with her findings.
Later, the pair had taken shelter inside the back of an empty truck, a pan bubbling on a hotplate that Joel had somehow juryrigged into working. Also on the hotplate was a kettle slowly working its way to boiling, and Joel was watching it with what looked to Ellie like baited breath.
He'd grinned like a kid, earlier, when Ellie had handed him the mystery tin, and the expression had caught her entirely by surprise. He wouldn't tell her what it was, though, saying instead that she'd "find out" as he rummaged through the crumbling buildings for something they could use to drink out of, which ended up being what looked like a chipped glass vase and a rusted tankard.
When the kettle finally whistled, Joel peeled the crumbling plastic lid and gingerly worked at the tab holding the aluminium in place, almost like he expected it to come away too easy. It didn't however, and Joel seemed satisfied with the pop—still aged, but the seal, at least, seemed to have been unbroken after all. A rich scent wafted over to Ellie and she sat up a little straighter, scarred brow rising in a silent question as Joel shook what turned out to be dark brown granules into the vase and the pint.
"You might not like this," he admitted, removing the kettle from the hotplate. He mustered as much ceremony as could be when it came to filling two questionable drinking vessels to the brim, steam wafting from each. The rich scent turned slightly acrid, but it wasn't completely unpleasant. Joel gave both drinks a stir with a makeshift shiv he'd taped together earlier, and tapped the rim of the vase with it once he was done.
"Go on, then."
"What is it, Joel? Looks like shit," she said, eyeing the brown liquid with some suspicion.
"Give it a taste, but mind your tongue 'cause it'll be hot." He didn't look like he was going to say anything further, because as it was, he was bringing the tankard to his face and breathing deeply of the smell.
"Not the best stuff, but it'll do." He muttered, and took a hearty swig in spite of the heat.
Ellie wrinkled her nose at him, then took the vase in her hands and gave it a sip. The taste sent shivers down her spine, and not in the good way. It was bitter, almost sour, with an undertone of nutty and lingered on her tongue—before she could control herself she'd made a face and Joel couldn't even be bothered to hide the grin behind his tankard.
"Like it?"
"Tastes like shit, too!" Ellie retorted.
"Takes some gettin' used to."
In spite of her protests, seeing how much Joel enjoyed it meant she finished it to the last drop.