This is my first upload to this site, and I'd appreciate any sort of feedback you guys could give. I don't write often, but when I do, it's often for my own pleasure on my own time, so actually writing in hopes of receiving constructive criticism is definitely a change. *Massive spoiler alert for the end of the game, of course* EDIT: I wasn't sure how to signify a timeskip, so I guess that line will work for now. EDIT 2: Wow, 123 views, 2 follows and a favorite? I don't know what to say. Maybe it's a measly amount, but it really does matter to me. This was gonna be a one-shot sort of thing, but chapter 2 is on its way, with some minor revisions to the first chapter, but nothing too big. I hadn't planned ahead of time for a chapter 2 so I'm just retrofitting the first chapter a little.
Daylight broke over the sleepy town, the early morning rays of light reflecting off of the dew on the blades of grass, jutting freely from the multitude cracks in the street. It had been 30 years since the first case of infection, and Ellie thought hard about how things would've been had there been any semblance of normality in her lifetime. Then again, what exactly WAS normal? The constant night patrols to clear the walls of infected? The silent lurking through empty buildings listening for infected or bandits, putting herself in peril for a measly 3 rounds of 5.56 rounds in some run down military outpost? Knowing how to field strip a rifle, clean it, and put it all back together again simply out of boredom? If this life was normal, then by any stretch of her imagination, the life Joel painted for her was probably, for lack of a better word, heaven. Absolute paradise. The fools. They wouldn't have known what hit them. They were so absorbed in their perfect little haven, in all their fantastical indulgences, that they let the rot kill them inside out. It wasn't fair, really. Ellie sighed, and hopped off of the crate she was sitting on top of, grabbing her beat up M16A4 assault rifle propped up on the wall adjacent to her. It was a mostly for a show of force, at this point. Most of the infected had either died off or were so few in number it hardly mattered. At this point, survivors were her main threat, though most were either armed with popguns or bows and arrows. The war between the bandits and Jackson had left most of the area secure within a 50 mile radius, save for a few vengeful stragglers or some desperate passer-by refusing to listen to reason. Really though, after 10 years of fighting, the gun was beginning to show its age. The grip was worn almost completely smooth, cracks lining the polyester, the butt of the gun encased in duct tape and streaked white with industrial strength glue, which in and of itself was streaked light brown from some poor sucker's brain matter; the teeth of the RIS railings on all but the bottom rail had all but chipped and cracked to utter uselessness, but it didn't stop Ellie from duct-taping a flashlight and laser pointer to them it anyway, topped off with half a pair of binoculars screwed on as a scope. Only the most tacti-cool setup this side of the Sierra Nevada, she thought to herself, chuckling as ran her finger along the battered fore-grip. She only wished the actual gun were in better shape. The once jet black finish was now streaked with tones of red and brown, rust beginning to overtake the weapon, the trigger guard non-existent, and the fire mode selector was a bobby pin now, with the firing modes crudely drawn on in permanent marker. Really, the only part on the gun that wasn't a complete wash was the barrel, which she managed to snag from a vagabond soldier with a death wish; she only wished she shot to kill the bastard instead of shooting and ruining a perfectly good looking replacement rifle. Still, the gun she had functioned, if only just. No matter how much she took care of it though, it still only fell more and more into disrepair; she laughed, as a vague memory of a certain point in time with Joel bubbled to the surface, but she quickly grimaced and pushed it away. Never again. She wasn't going back to that...that nightmare. With a pep in her stride, she began to walk back to the wall. 10 cans of fruit, a couple of shotgun shells(not empty, for once), 30 9mm bullets, a box of .45 ACP, a machete, a well maintained M1911, a kinda shitty 92FS, and some AA batteries. A relatively light haul, but not bad, all things considered. Not much need for foraging ever since the gardens were up and running and their livestock supply had stabilized, but still, she didn't want to lose her edge; it was good exercise, and she certainly preferred the smell of the outdoors over the town any day. It was about a few dozen miles back to the main gates, and she wouldn't be caught dead walking around at night. "Endure and survive, motherfuckers," she mumbled under her breath, smirking as she clutched at the fore grip of her rifle, before slinging it over her back, "endure and survive." And on she walked, flies beginning to congregate over the 4 dead bodies behind her, each with a freshly made bullet wound in their heads.
"She's back," said a sniper to his spotter leisurely, his rifle in his lap, "just another "stroll" into town, you think?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure," the other man scoffed, casually checking for Ellie in the distance through his binoculars, "looks like a light load today."
"Ah well, maybe she managed to snag you a, heh, "gentlemen's magazine", eh?" the sniper said jokingly to his spotter, who looked over to his partner, rolling his eyes in apathy.
"You only wish, maybe then you could actually get MORE than a light load off, prick," he quipped, "assuming I even let you use it."
"Psh, after saving your ass from that bloater bomb, THIS is how you thank me?" the spotter whined.
"We are behind plexi-glass that's as close to hermetically sealed as it gets in this day and age, 30 feet in the air, with gas masks on," the sniper said, annoyed, but still chuckling, "I was nowhere near having any sorta need to be saved,"
"Your filter was bad that day though," the spotter said in an almost sing-song tone, "yeah, you're welcome."
"Oh bite me. Let's just get her clear with the guards before she trips a false alarm again," the spotter said, stepping outside of their little tree fort, pulling out a flare gun and firing into the air. The flare whistled and whined as it ascended into the air, streaking a brilliant green into the sunset sky. Ellie looked up towards the fort, and waved happily.
"Glad to see you two jokers wasting another flare," Ellie said playfully, "those take time AND more trips to make every time, you know."
"Oh c'mon, don't be like that Ells," the sniper hollered, walking up behind his partner and putting his hand on his shoulder, "Ray was just so eager to check the haul of the day, he says he-"
"I didn't say shit, you brain-dead fuck," the spotter snapped as he turned around to try and whap the sniper on the head, who seemed to take it in stride and laugh as he dodged his incoming blows. Ellie grinned, and shook her head, adjusting her rifle's strap before walking on.
"Look, you scared her off you dick!" the sniper said, laughing, "We'll catch you when the next guys come to relieve us!"
"ONE of us," the spotter snarled, though his expression quickly softened as he looked up over the railing to Ellie, "but bye Ells! Tell the doc to send a body bag!"
"Hey, that sniper is a prick, but he's one of our best, next to uh," she started, clearing her throat and posing dramatically, pointing to herself, "yours truly." The spotter and sniper both looked at each other, and began to chuckle, before a moment of realization came across the spotter's face.
"Ha, ain't that the truth," the spotter said, "welcome back, Ellie, get on home, and by the way, in case you were sleepin' or something, but a freakin' JET flew by last night." With that, Ellie turned back towards the two. She eyed them with a look of surprise. "I ain't kidding, an A-10 flew RIGHT over, it was marked USAF, too."
"He might be a binocular totting maniac with a temper, but he ain't a liar," the sniper said solemnly, but a tone of awe in his voice, "there was a veritable jet that flew over us last night, definitely U.S Air Force."
"The HELL is that supposed to mean?" the spotter snapped, edging closer to his partner angrily.
"Whatever you want, princess," the sniper said, laughing again as the spotter tried vainly to lay hands on him; with a wave of her hand as she walked away, she bid them good bye as they continued to bicker. In the distance, she could see the glimmering lights of Jackson; was it them that flew over? She pondered this as the town gate came into view, all 50 feet of it, solid welded steel lined with barbed wires and flood lights, with complementary 20 foot deep spike pit encompassing the walls, Ellie couldn't have felt more at home. As she walked closer, the gates sprang to life, groaning as they opened slowly for the young woman.
"Why if it ain't the town sheriff," a man called out to her as the doors opened, showing that he was standing there waiting. He was rather gruff, his face adorned with now mostly grey gristle, with patches of black still clinging on. His build was sinewy, his muscles clearly defined even through his jacket and dark green flannel; you wouldn't have guessed his age, and even if he told you, there would still be some doubt; he was still a powerhouse even for his age, if only just a bit slower now. "welcome home, baby girl." he said admiringly.
"It's good to be back, ya geezer," Ellie smiled, walking over the man, and lifting her fist to him. He promptly fist bumped her. "how're you holding up, Joel?"
"Ah y'know, bit of aches, bit of pains, but!" he said excitingly, pulling out something from behind his pocket, "look what the big guy found me." he revealed an old looking bottle of pills, the labeling mangled but she could still just make out the blue and yellow "Ale".
"You managed to get some Aleve?!" she said, grasping at the bottle shocked.
"Well, Tommy did," Joel said, taking the bottle back and putting it into his jacket pocket, "it certainly helps, that's for sure.
"Well that's great, Joel," she said patting him on the shoulder, "maybe now you can actually come along with me on my walks."
"Ha, like I can't?" Joel said jokingly, lightly punching her in the arm, "getting real cocky kiddo, don't forget who taught you everything you know. Hell, I still know a thing or two you could learn."
"Oh yeah, and what exactly would that be?" Ellie chuckled, getting into a boxing stance, bobbing around back and forth as she playfully jabbed at the air in front of him, "How to Be Old, Fat, and Slow: The Official How-To by Old-Man Joel"
"Oh yeah? Well how about thi-" Joel began before he froze up with a look of terror and agonizing pain on his face, as he clutched his hand at his chest, before falling over and breathing very heavily on the ground, as he writhed around in the dirt on his back.
"Oh haw haw, real funny Joel," Ellie said, getting out of her stance and leaning over Joel as he spasmed on the ground, onlookers walking by with worried looks on their faces. "Get up ya old coot, if it's a heart attack that kills you, I want out from the school of Sensei Joel," Joe struggled to lift his other arm up to her face, running his hand down her cheek, looking at her in complete desperation, before he slowly stopped moving, and went limp, his breathing grinding to a halt, as he let out one last breath, and his eyes began to glaze over, a crowd began to gather around the two. "Come on Joel, let's go, you're making a scene," Ellie said, annoyed as she began to walk off, when a soft gasp caught her attention. Her chest tightened, her fists clenched as she turned around to see the town doctor leaning over Joel, a grim look on his face.
"Wait," Ellie said, almost pleading, "Joel?" she rushed back almost to his side instantly, only to be stopped by the crowd, "Let me through you FUCKING pricks!" she screamed, throwing kick after punch haphazardously at the crowd that began to surround her, tears freely flowing down her face as the doctor tried half-heartedly to resuscitate Joel. "Let me THROUGH!" she shrieked, pulling her Beretta and firing into the air, quickly sending the crowd fleeing, leaving only the doctor between her and Joel. She pointed her weapon at him, almost dead eyed, her lips quivering as her pistol shook in her hand. "Move it, Doc," she said completely deadpan in tone, her eyes bloodshot, devoid of any sympathy for the doctor.
"Now Ellie..." the doctor began, his legs shaking as he took a step toward the bereaved woman.
"Don't you "Now Ellie" me, you fucking pencil-pushing shit monger," she said sardonically, almost laughing, as a smile flashed across her face, and then left just as quickly, "move aside, or I end your very, VERY successful career as a medical practitioner," she threatened, her voice shaking with an unspeakable rage. "Now," she said in a matter-of-factly tone, cocking her hammer back and firing into the ground barely missing the doctor's foot, "Move." she said with an ominous smile, as tears kept cascading down her now crimson red cheeks. The doctor quickly stepped aside, his hands high above his head as he helplessly watched Ellie rush to Joel's side, immediately attempting to compress his chest, "Come on, you old fuck," she said desperately, her breathing devolving into a twisted mixture of laughing and sobbing as she viciously pressed on him, "come ON!" she wailed, punching him square in the middle of his rib cage, immediately sending Joel into a beastly coughing fit, wheezing as Ellie jumped back, shocked. "What the flying fuck?!" she exclaimed, watching as Joel clutched at his chest, still coughing, before snapping to her senses and offering him a hand up. "Fucking Christ Joel," she said, her voice shaking, as he took her hand. She dropped her pistol, and quickly embraced him tightly, rushing to get the tears off her face before burrowing her face into his shoulder.
"Now, you got a wee bit carried away there, don'tcha think?" Joel rasped, patting her head meekly.
"Shut up, just," she whimpered softly, "just shut up." With that, Joel let out a long sigh, his breathing still wheezy, and hugged her back just as tight.
"Well, that certainly went south, no pun intended," the doctor said, slumping into his chair, clutching his glasses in-between his fingers.
"Yeah well, it was in damned bad taste in hind sight," Joel said somberly, "didn't think she'd come on so strongly."
"Well you're kinda the one person that's always been there for her, above and beyond all the way and such," said the doctor, getting up to check his calendar, a rough sketch of crudely drawn boxes and the month scrawled across the top, crossing off one more box. The day was April the 1st, 2043. "Better luck next year, I s'pose?" he said, before turning to Joel. "What did you make of that plane that flew over? Friendly?"
"Well, it certainly didn't shoot at us," Joel said assuredly, "that gun it's toting is the size of a Beetle, rips straight through tank armor, and the fact that it didn't light us up is a damn big comfort in my book." Joel sat up, and began to walk out of the doctor's office, pausing in the door way. "I'm gonna be fine, right doc?"
"Of course. My guess is you've got arthritis, nothing serious. Just keep taking your meds and taking it easy and you'll be golden." the doctor said happily, walking over to Joel and patting him on the shoulder. "She's grown up now, she can handle herself out there, Joel. Don't worry about her." Joel grumbled, and walked out of the office. On his desk laid a notepad, with various scribbles and symptoms for Joel, and at the very bottom, bursitis was underlined and circled, with an arrow pointing to spinal epidural abscess. The doctor walked over to his desk, and flipped the notepad over.