Hey everyone! This is my first time writing a story for the Last of Us. I really love this game and felt inspired to create my own story about it.
(Disclaimer: Naughty Dog owns this game and its characters. The only thing I own is my OC and plot twists.)
Ten Years Ago...
"Naomi!"
She shot up from her bed, startled. Her mother was sweating, fear written all over her expression. "We have to go, pack up whatever you need."
"Mommy, you're scaring me." Naomi said, fully awake. She was nine years old.
"There's no time! Hurry!" Her mother helped her out of bed and tossed her a shirt and a skirt to change into. Then she pulled out her backpack that she used for school and started stuffing in extra pairs of shirts and skirts.
Naomi's father came running into the room. "We have to go, now." Her father was holding a 12 gauge pump action Benelli M4 Tactical shotgun. Two 12-inch KA-BAR knives were sheathed on both legs and a belt of shotgun rounds was slung around his shoulder. Blood was splattered all over his white shirt.
Naomi slung her backpack on her shoulders and put on her shoes, then went with her parents to the living room. They lived in an apartment complex in Manhattan, New York. Naomi's father opened the door to the hall only to shut it the next instant. She caught a glance of a man outside their apartment. Immediately, that man started banging on the door, trying to break it down.
"Out the fire escape, hurry!" Naomi's father said as he pumped a slug round into the chamber of the shotgun. Naomi's mother pulled the window to the fire escape open.
"Come on, sweetie." Her mother said as softly as she could, trying to hide the fear in her voice.
"Mommy, I'm scared." Naomi whimpered. She had a right to be scared. Not only was there a crazy man trying to break down their door, they were ten stories up.
"It's okay, mommy's right here." She said, holding out her arms to Naomi from the fire escape.
Reluctantly, Naomi climbed out onto the fire escape and her mother picked her up and held her. "John, come on!" Not long after she said that, the loud pop of the shotgun rang in the air and John vaulted out the window onto the fire escape, shutting the window behind him.
"Alright, Jane." He said as he caught up with them. "Where's your brother's place?"
"All the way in Boston." she replied, trying to comfort the sobbing Naomi as they descended down the fire escape.
John groaned, "is that the closest relative you have?"
"Yes, now we have to get to the truck." Jane said.
They reached the concrete floor of the ground as John took the lead. They were going to their Dodge Ram in the parking garage, but stopped when they saw a battle ensuing between the police and the infected. A woman screamed as a Runner bit into her shoulder. Gun fire filled the air as the police tried to hold their line.
"Mommy what's that?" Naomi asked, turning. Jane stopped her and told her not to look.
"We have to find another way." John said, leading them a different way.
He lead them down to another street where the other side of the parking garage was at. This side was empty, no infected or anyone else, but that didn't stop them from being cautious. As they entered the parking garage, they spotted several Runners feasting on the body of a man. They quietly sneaked around them towards the second floor.
Due to Naomi falling asleep, they were able to maneuver quietly around groups of infected. John pulled out the keys to the Ram as the black 4WD truck came into view. It was untouched and undamaged.
John told Jane to wait while he quietly crept up to the truck. John was a full-time Navy SEAL, he had come back to New York after receiving a month-long vacation to visit Jane and Naomi. He was using everything he learned in training.
He heard the click of a hammer being pulled back on a revolver before he heard Jane. "John!" She called out.
He turned around, aiming the shotgun at the guy holding Jane hostage. Naomi was surprisingly still asleep.
"We don't want any trouble," John said as he inched closer and closer, the Benelli M4 never shaking in his grip.
"Then just give me that shotgun and your knives. And the keys to the truck." The hooded boy said.
"Look, we can all get out of here alive. You can come with us." John tried to offer.
"No, you're lying! The moment I let my guard down, you're going to pump me full of hot lead!" He pressed the barrel of the revolver harder against Jane's temple. "Just give me the fucking stuff that I asked for and no one here has to fucking die!"
John saw the intense fear in the boy's eyes. Behind the hood was a boy no older than seventeen. Fear has a way of making someone think irrationally.
"Alright, alright." John said, holding the shotgun by the barrel with one hand. "Just let them go."
Then suddenly, the air was filled with loud screeching. Runners appeared around the corner and were right behind Jane and Naomi. The boy, filled with terror, let them go and started firing the revolver at the Runners, screaming at the same time.
Jane ran to John. "Go!" John yelled as he gave Jane the keys to the truck. "I'll hold them off, get to Boston and meet with your brother!"
"But-"
"Don't argue with me! Get Naomi out of here!" She saw the pained expression on John's face. "I'll meet you in Boston."
Jane looked back at the group of Runners overwhelming the boy as some of them turned their attention to them. Fearing for Naomi's life, she reluctantly decided to leave. "I better see you in Boston..." She said.
"I'll be there. I promise." He kissed her briefly. "Now go!" He said, firing at the Runners that were coming at them.
Jane fought back tears as she unlocked the truck and placed Naomi into her car seat. After starting the truck, she backed it out of the parking spot and looked back at John. He was looking at her and nodded. Jane shifted the truck into the first gear and sped through the mass of Runners as she turned onto the first floor. The impact of the Runners shook the truck, but the Ram was built to take the hits. The engine roared as Jane drove off into the horrific night towards Boston, Massachusetts.
John watched as the truck sped off. He was out of ammo and was holding both his knives as more Runners came at him. Sweat seeped out of every pore in his body and clashed with the blood of the Runners that was splattered all over him.
There were still at least fifteen of them left. His muscles ached, crying out for a moment to rest. But John didn't have that luxury. He swallowed down the pain as he ran, isolating the Runners so he could kill them without the threat of being overwhelmed. His SEAL training taught him how to fend off multiple fighters. You take them down one by one, never all at once.
"Come at me you motherfuckers." He growled.
When it was over, the bodies of the Runners lay on the concrete ground of the top floor. Knife wounds to the throat and behind the neck at the base of the skull were apparent on the Runners. John sat, slouched against the nearest wall, dropping his knives on the ground.
He had been sitting there for about ten minutes, but he wasn't feeling any better. It probably had to do with that one Runner that bit him on the forearm. He felt himself getting weaker as he coughed up blood.
He smiled to himself as he looked up at the sky. Even though smoke filled the air, he could still see the stars and the moon. "I'm sorry, Jane... Naomi... I can't fulfill my promise.." He silently prayed to God to watch over them as he violently coughed out more blood. He died a few minutes later from choking on his own blood.