A/N: Written on request by Possk. Happy early birthday!
I know, I know. Another one of these 'filling in the winter gap' fics. But even so, I hope to bring some new stuff to the table that makes it worth your time.
Once again, big thanks to Rascal for her wonderful beta job!
…
Despite the snow that fell in languid flakes around them, Ellie was warm. The tepid life essence that oozed out of Joel's wound was soaking her front from where she had been clinging to his back; perspiring into her skin like a hot syrup, and permeating her clothes with the acrid copper smell.
The smell of death.
Despite the thick film it caused in her throat, she swallowed and begged the fallen man to lead her.
"You gotta tell me what to do!"
Her only response was a weak puff of icy tendrils escaping his mouth, and she grew increasingly frantic. This couldn't be the same man that had managed to keep the both of them alive all this time – no, this frail man, looking so weak with age couldn't be Joel.
"C'mon!" she shook him, her heart pounding so fast that she was sure it would break her ribcage. "You gotta get up!"
Another breath; slower and weaker than the last.
"Joel?!"
She searched the weathered face for signs of waking, but got no response, and her attempts to lift him were failing. She felt the panic try and take over, but stubbornly pushed it aside. Was she really so quick to fall apart without his guidance? No, this wasn't her, any more than that was her invincible Joel lying there in a pool of his own blood.
Taking a deep breath, the rushing sound in her ears finally stopped, leaving her head aching and the world eerily quiet as she drew on her reserves of survivor's adrenalin.
Grabbing Callus's reins, she pulled the horse over to her fallen guardian. He seemed to understand on some level, and did not move or shy away when she bent back to her task of trying to force Joel's upper body up by the shoulders. Ellie hooked her hands under his armpits and gave a colossal heave.
The next few minutes felt like a dream, as the girl maneuvered Joel slowly upright. She slipped; he slid; but in the end she had a still-breathing man awkwardly slumped on his belly over the horse's saddle. Ellie gave herself only a few seconds to catch her breath before reaching for the reins again.
"C'mon, boy," she ushered, pulling the horse forward on foot and off into the unknown wilderness – the only place she could be sure they wouldn't be followed.
…
It was a naked feeling, being out in the open with nothing but trees and snow for cover. Ellie and Callus both started at every 'thud' from the masses of snow that slid off their tree perches, but she still coaxed the animal forward, knowing every jarring bump could be Joel's death sentence.
Two hours passed, and nothing. It was getting dark, and the temperature was dropping, fast. Ellie had hoped beyond hope that they'd run into some sort of cabin – a shed… Anything so that Joel and she wouldn't have to suffer the elements and be exposed for an entire night. But it seemed luck was not on their side.
Callus halted when she did, and Ellie sighed before looking around. The area was fairly sheltered by trees, and as dry as she was likely to get. She moved to Joel's side, and checked his breathing.
It was there – faint but definite. Heaving a sigh of relief, the girl left him with Callus's warmth and set to work.
Ellie didn't know how she did it, but faster than she'd have thought possible, she had the little area cleared of dampness. She foraged any dry twigs and made them into a tiny fire. It wasn't glamorous, or even ideal, but it would have to do.
Moving Joel off Callus and to the fire was painful and messy, and she was almost crying from exhaustion and misery when it was over. His grunts and short breaths told her he was awake, but too weak to do much of anything.
She knew the cold itself was to thank for Joel lasting as long as he had, but also knew it would do him in just as easily. There were medical supplies in his backpack, but she hardly knew what she was doing. She looked down at Joel to see his eyes squinted shut against the pain, and his body shivering. Those were good signs, right?
The backpack meant Joel was at a painful angle, and so she took it off him. She would need it, anyway.
"Okay, big guy… I'm gonna have to take a look," she said, apology lacing her tone as she carefully peeled away the sticky jacket and shirt until they lay completely aside. Quickly, she pulled out some of the rare clothing they'd managed to find, bundling it beneath him so that his bare torso wouldn't be exposed to the frostbitten grass and dirt.
In all her years of reading, Ellie knew her way around a description – but the sight blemishing his skin was too grisly even for her tastes. She tried not to think about it, or the smell, as she set to work dousing one of Joel's few rags with the even scarcer alcohol.
"This is gonna hurt," she warned the half-conscious man, "Sorry…"
What little was in her stomach lurched and almost emptied when she pressed down. Joel's agonized grunt and the smell of blood and liquor all mixed together and made her sick.
Ellie wasn't sure how long she sat there, letting the liquid seep into his wound, even as her own hands steadily darkened with his blood. The longer she pressed, the more sounds he made, and the more his eyes fluttered beneath his eyelids.
At last his eyes opened, and Ellie gasped in relief.
"Joel."
"What the hell are you tryin' to kill me with?" he coughed out, lifting his head to weakly look down at his bare midsection.
"Yeah well," she huffed at his comment, his voice bringing a wave of emotion over her, "You're lucky to be alive, so just bear with me."
Her gaze turned solemn. "I'm going to have to stitch up the wound."
He closed his eyes again and was quiet, and for a moment she was afraid he'd slipped back into unconsciousness, before he answered, "I'll do it. We don't have any thread, so you're gonna have to-"
"No!" she interrupted wildly, "I can do this, Joel, just let me help!"
He was silent for a while, but eventually logic seemed to win out in his brain and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.
"All right… Now you're gonna wanna make that thread," he grunted out painfully. "Is the horse still here?"
Ellie didn't dare ask why he couldn't see the animal standing only a few feet away.
"Yeah, Joel. He's here."
"Okay, now… Pluck a few hairs from his tail."
"What?"
"Just do it," he hissed through clenched teeth.
She obeyed, and had to admit Callus was a real trooper as she yanked and pulled until the thick hairs came loose. His head jerked up when she succeeded, and she apologized by patting his flank briefly on her way back to Joel.
But the man was silent again. She shook his shoulder, and he jolted awake, looking like he didn't remember where they were.
"Joel?"
He coughed twice before drawing in several shaky breaths and answering, "Right. What were you doin', again?"
Her heart sank at the feeble response, but she didn't let it show on her face. "The horse hair. We're sewing up your wound."
Joel coughed again and nodded, "There's a first-aid needle in my backpack. Tie a hair to it and I'll talk you through the rest."
The needle was straight, and awkward to handle, but through the shaking of her hands, Ellie managed to tie the makeshift thread through the needle hole with enough to spare for the actual sewing.
"Now, when you tie it, it's gonna go around your finger twice – then you pull down and tighten it. Then you keep doing that, forwards once, then backwards again. Forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards. About three or four times."
She nodded nervously at his explanation.
"Then you cut it, and start again, understand?"
"I understand."
Joel lifted a weak hand and pointed to his skin, about half a centimeter from the gaping edge of the wound. It still hurt Ellie to look at.
"Right here. You're gonna wanna start about this far, each time."
"I got it."
As Ellie moved forward to start, Joel's hand gripping her wrist stopped her, and she looked up to find his gaze piercing.
"Now Ellie…" he warned, "We don't have the proper tools here, so it's gonna hurt like hell and bleed all over the place. But you don't stop until that wound is closed, you hear me?"
She nodded again, dutifully but obviously scared. "I hear you."
He let go of her hand. "Good. Now get me one of them rags to bite down on."
The cry he let out when she dug the needle into his skin was muffled by the fabric, but agonizing to listen to, and her face contorted as she quickly set to work on tying it off like he'd instructed her. She could only hope she was doing it right, as the man had his eyes pinched shut against the pain.
By the third needle entering, Joel had passed out and Ellie was on her own.
She wiped the sweat from her brow as she finished the exit wound, and patted at the blood with the liquor soaked rag until it stopped flowing from between the stitches.
'Halfway there…' she thought grimly.
The entrance hole was easier, despite having to work with Joel rolled over onto his side. She didn't want to risk getting dirt into the finished stitches by tumbling him all the way over.
Joel was shivering violently by the time she was through, and her own hands were numb. Moving over to the faithfully stationary Callus, Ellie loosened the buckle holding his saddle in place before sliding it off until all that was left was the saddle blanket beneath it.
"Sorry Callus, I have to borrow this."
She laid the wool over Joel's exposed upper body, the fabric still rich with body heat, and rubbed until Joel's powerful shudders died down. Relieved, she watched the rise and fall of his chest for a few moments, before everything finally slowed down in her mind, and she registered the chill in her own body. She looked down at where her own bloody clothes still stuck to her small frame.
Reaching for her own backpack, Ellie pulled out another shirt and jacket for herself, before using Callus as a makeshift curtain to change. When she approached Joel again – newly clothed – he had fallen back into a fitful sleep.
Pulling her backpack up, she turned it into a crude pillow for herself as she curled up beside Joel. She pressed as close as comfortably possible, knowing she had to get some body heat into him for the color to start coming back in his cheeks. The rapidly vanishing sun was making them look even paler.
The hours ticked by and the snow piled up outside their little shelter of trees. The sun finally disappeared from Ellie's sight, and she dozed lightly.
In and out her consciousness swam; dimly hearing the crackle of the snow and birds singing when she would pull out of her restless sleep. Her body tried to keep her relaxed despite her brain surging with constant anxiety over Joel, and the conflict made her repeat several instances of napping, to barely registering that she was trying to wake up. She never gained restful sleep, and as she awoke she felt as though she had barely even closed her eyes to placate her drowsiness.
Pushing further into wakefulness, her eyes focused on the moon hovering in the sky. She had awoken to the rapid pounding of her heart and an aching burn of adrenalin firing through her. Her body had acted instinctively while she was half-conscious and she tried focusing on what had frightened her. Then she remembered – a clicking noise. Immediately she reached for the pistol in her pack, her grogginess instantly forgotten.
Kk-kk-kk-kkr.
It was very faint. Ellie froze in place, pistol clutched so tightly her fingers were turning white. The noise echoed from every direction, and Ellie instinctively looked at Joel for reassurance, but he was still unconscious. Her panic rose as the sounds continued – never seeming too close or too far away.
Kkkkk-kkkkk.
Had infected found them? Or was it just some bird? Holding still for fear of making any sound, Ellie's fingers clenched tighter around the gun's hilt in nervous spasms. Should she douse the fire? The risk of freezing from the harsh weather made her hesitate.
Rows upon rows of dead trees, skeletal and bleached, clawing at the sky and bathed in moonlight as the silence around them became overwhelming. Ellie could swear it was weighing her down, suffocating her, as she held her breath and continued to listen.
More clicking. Ellie suppressed a noise and glanced to Joel again. The fire was weak, but it still crackled and licked at the wood, shifting the shadows around them like thousands of dancing demons. Ellie's eyes constantly flitted around as each one seemed like a figure scurrying closer before leaping out of sight.
The trees bore down on her with the blanket of utter, complete, deafening silence.
Kkkr-kkkkkr.
Callus shifted and snorted to her left, but luckily did not bray if he was sensing something. Another shadow leapt at her, and she summoned enough courage to click back the hammer of her gun. Her shaky breaths seemed much too loud to her own ears.
It seemed like hours passed, with her just sitting there, waiting for something to materialize out of the darkness that she could be sure was real. Ellie shifted and started when her hand brushed against something stiff and cold. She looked down.
It was a butterfly; pathetic and frozen on the ground. It was being torn apart by ants. The scene left an uncomfortable feeling in her gut, and she yanked her hand away.
Lethargy finally took over when dawn approached and the noises subsided. Ellie lay back down, keeping the pistol closer so she could grab it if awoken. Her nerves still trembling through her body, her eyes felt as heavy as stones and her urge to sleep came back with a vengeance.
Ellie wasn't sure when she drifted off, and she wasn't sure for how long. All she knew was that when she next opened her eyes, her vision was full of Joel.
She didn't have the energy to feel disappointed with herself as she checked his breathing again. Ellie pushed herself closer to the warmth of Joel's blanket, lying awake with her hand resting gently against his chest.
Unconscious or not, he made her feel safer. And Callus was here to warn her of any danger. Slowly, Ellie felt the panic lower and exhaustion catch up with her. Her resistance to sleep's tempting pull was feeble this time, as the sun started to peek over the horizon.
…
Joel looked positively ashen when she awoke that morning. His complexion was pasty and he was shuddering violently despite the warmth around him. Feeling his forehead, Ellie panicked when his skin nearly burned her hand. Shooting up, she pried open his bag and grabbed for the water canteen inside it.
Bringing the cool liquid to his lips, she got a bit down his throat, but hesitated in rubbing any on his face for fear of chilling him. He needed to eat something. Digging further into the backpack, her hand came upon the few cans of food they'd managed to scrounge up in the last town they were in.
Figuring rice would be the easiest to get into him, Ellie set up the gas cooker and piled in some clean snow with the grains to make a mushy gruel. Propping his head up on her lap, she pushed the spoon past his chapped lips, feeling a bolt of elation when they closed weakly around the silverware.
When he was finished eating, she coaxed more water into him, and then laid him back down to sleep once she was confident his fever had dropped a little.
Her eyes held bags under them, but she hadn't given up her hope of finding shelter. Now that she'd finished nursing Joel, Ellie's strength felt far away. Still, though her arms shook when she re-dressed and hefted him up by his armpits again, she managed to get him up and onto Callus quicker than the previous day.
The day was quiet save for the crumpling of snow beneath their feet, the calling of birds, and the occasional whistling of a cold wind. Ellie led Callus through the white powder blanketing the area with an urgency borne from sleepless anxiety. The cold had her near gasping for breath, and sparkling cobwebs of mist wafted from her panting mouth.
Five hours they walked, not stopping except for the occasional drink, or for Ellie or Callus to relieve themselves. The horse clearly wanted to graze, but kept going whenever she coaxed, much to Ellie's relief.
Finally, she saw a speck on the horizon. Then four. Then, as they neared, a whole plot of houses came into view.
Ellie huffed a half-laugh of exuberance. She almost forgot herself; almost raced towards their sanctuary at full speed like there wasn't a care in the world now that she'd found it. She held herself back at the last minute. Instead she led Callus to a nearby tree and looped his reins around a branch, before pulling out her pistol and heading down the small incline as quietly as possible.
Ellie didn't dare open the rather rickety-looking door of the first house. It was slightly ajar, and she clutched the gun tighter.
'Everything's cool…' she reassured herself.
Creeping around the side, she sat in the snow for a few seconds to calm her noisy breath and summon her courage. Keeping low, she peered through the cracked window into the dimly lit interior of the first floor.
Two. There were two Clickers inside the house – huddled near each other for warmth.
With a muted noise, Ellie backed away from the glass, barely remembering to do it slowly if not for months of it becoming second nature, with Joel.
As quietly as possible, she moved away from the window, praying that her feet wouldn't crunch too loudly in the snow. Her breathing had become ragged, and she couldn't reel it in. Knowing that they would soon be able to hear it and pinpoint her location, she plunged her hand into the whiteness to grapple for something she could use as a distraction.
She let out a relieved breath when her fingers closed around the spiny ridges of a pinecone, stifling herself quickly when she heard two noises of reaction from within.
Kkkkkr. Kkk-kkk-kkkr.
Immediately, Ellie tossed the object over her head, to clatter loudly across the rooftop and down the other side, into the snow below.
Pinching her eyes shut against the four shrieks she could make out, Ellie let out the breath she'd been holding, slowly, and aimed at the closest one. It was dead before it could fully get out the door – the fungal plate emerging from its skull was blown off by her shot.
The other two that she could see had frozen in place, clicking to hone in on where the echoing sound had come from, and were now stumbling frantically toward her.
Not having time to make such a precise shot again, Ellie messily improvised. She sent one sprawling into the snow with a blow to the leg.
The other creature screeched and flailed its arms wildly, seeking her. By the time she'd adjusted her aim it was almost upon her. She could smell the pungent stink of old fungus coming off it in waves; it was almost enough to stagger her.
She fired, painting both the snow and her own face with blood when the bullet pierced through the monster's throat at point-blank range.
Not pausing, her movements were fluid and graceful – much to her own surprise – as she unloaded several more resounding shots into the crippled one crawling towards her, until her gun clicked empty, and it finally lie still.
Her breath was short and sharp as she stared with wide eyes at the bodies. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she didn't register the fear or sickness that came with killing like she sometimes did, and instead trembled with the thrill of having lived through yet another close encounter.
Heaving a shuddering gasp, she swallowed thickly and slowly lowered the gun.
KKKKKKK -
In the next instant, she was on her side on the ground; the empty pistol in the snow and a heavy body atop hers.
The putrid and snapping maw of the Clicker strained closer to her throat. She held it at bay with her available arm and an arched knee against its stomach.
The grotesque smell invaded her senses and made her limbs weak. She felt the top row of its teeth graze the sensitive skin of her neck and reacted in a panicked explosion of movement.
With a mighty cry, Ellie shoved against the creature. Her idle hand made contact with a lump in her pocket, and she dove her fingers into the denim before rolling forward and plunging the switchblade into the Clicker's belly.
It didn't seem to react, aside from letting go of her for a split second. It was the split second she needed.
Driving her hand forward again, she pierced it a second time. The creature fell backwards, writhing and howling in pain, until finally stilling as she used her new leverage to aim for where she estimated its heart to be.
Panting, Ellie sluggishly crawled off the body. Her hands were shaking more violently this time, and she dropped her re-sheathed knife a few times before at last managing to put it back in her pocket successfully.
The blood on her face was already cracking from the cold, and it pulled at her skin, making it itch uncomfortably. She scratched at it before lethargically getting to her feet to finish what she'd started.
The first house wasn't very secure or warm and only had a little bit of supplies. She shoved them into her backpack and moved on.
Ellie went through several houses, finding them all of similar quality. Most were rotted away in places and would not provide adequate shelter unless fixed up.
At last she found one. The basement was still fairly insulated, and there were a few cans of edible food left in the kitchen. She searched the bedrooms and found a single mattress. The odor wasn't pretty, but she could air it out until nightfall. All the blankets had long been eaten away by moths and age. She scoured the laundry room next, but her heart sank when all bedding there had to be deemed unusable as well.
Other houses yielded similar results. When she came up empty-handed in the final dwelling, she cursed and kicked at a haphazard pile of clothing. A green and white plaid corner caught her attention, and she quickly shoved the other items aside.
There it was – a beautifully intact wool comforter. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief and snatched it up, running outside to set it up in the basement she'd deemed their home until Joel got better.
Something caught her eye in the darkness, and squinting, she moved over to it. It was a bow – and a damn sturdy one at that. She picked it up and tested the string. It did not groan or fray at her handling, and she hesitated before slowly shouldering it. She didn't necessarily need it, but thinking about it, it wouldn't feel right using Joel's weapons. It would be like accepting he was gone, and she couldn't do that. She'd shot bows back in Boston, and was pretty fucking good at it. She ran her hands along the polished wood of the arch from where she kept it on her shoulder, before moving on.
Heaving the mattress outside, Ellie left it in a sunbeam, hoping the drying warmth would kill any mold that was making that smell. Once she was satisfied with her work, and that she could support an injured person here, she hiked back up the hill to where Joel was.
"Hey," she greeted the unconscious man. "I only found a few supplies, but at least we'll have shelter."
Ellie put her hand under his mouth, and waited for the warm breath to tickle her fingertips. But it never came.
"Joel?"
When had he stopped breathing? She'd been gone an hour, but there was still some color on his cheeks, telling her it hadn't been long enough to be too late.
"Shit," she cursed, grabbing Callus's reins to pull both man and horse into the garage of her sanctuary. "Don't you fucking die on me now, Joel!"
Yanking him off the animal, Ellie pressed him urgently to the ground and ducked her head to listen for a heartbeat.
There it was! Faint, but definitely beating.
'I'm not gonna let you die on me!'
Moving his face to look skywards, the girl rolled up her sleeves. Straightening her arms, she placed her hands flatly over his chest and used her shoulders to heave with all her might – once; twice. Again and again she pushed, before leaning forward to give him her breath.
His chest expanded with her exhale, but she didn't stop. Palpitating his heart several times again, she breathed for him a second time.
After fifteen minutes of this, however, her own heart plummeted with every unresponsive second that made this effort seem destined for failure. Some of the color returned to his complexion, but he still did not breathe on his own. Panting, Ellie watched and waited for a few agonizing seconds, before leaning down for one last desperate attempt to revive him.
As she sent her first breath into him, his lungs expanded of their own accord, wrenching the air from her. She released him, sputtering and coughing, before her own lungs shuddered out an awed gasp as the man's chest continued to heave on its own.
'He's alive! He's gonna fucking make it!' she rejoiced in her head, scarcely believing her own eyes as Joel lie there on the concrete ground, breathing almost like normal and looking merely asleep.
It was a balm to her soul, and as the adrenaline that had kept her functioning gave way to mind-numbing fatigue, Ellie pulled the blanket over him, pushed her backpack under his head, and lay herself down by Joel's side. She was too tired to care about the cold, or lack of her own pillow, and fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
…
When Ellie awoke, it was dusk out. With a jaw-popping yawn, she sleepily checked Joel's breathing and fever, relieved when both were at an acceptable level, before heading out to fetch the airing mattress.
The smell wasn't gone, but was now at a more tolerable level. Grunting and tugging, she maneuvered the item inside the relative warmth of the basement. She waved her hand in front of her face to ward off the dust that sprayed up when she dropped it on the floor. Her chest heaved in a resigned sigh when she realized she would have to move Joel again.
"Okay, Joel… Just bear with me while I get you on here."
The man responded with a shuddering breath through his teeth and she knew he was awake, again, though he still seemed too weak to say anything.
Spreading her legs for better leverage, she hefted him up by his underarms and pulled him crudely down the stairs, hoping fervently that she wouldn't reopen his wounds. Once they were in the warmer area, she heaved his upper body onto the mattress. He grunted, and she paused, worried that she'd hurt him, before an unmistakable acrid scent reached her nose. Her eyes widened in understanding.
Honestly, it hadn't even crossed her mind until then that he'd have to go to the bathroom at some point, but now she felt stupid for never thinking of it. She knew she should feel embarrassed, and maybe she was, but mostly she felt herself going back into survivor mode as she realized the problem wouldn't solve itself.
Moving the rest of him onto the mattress, she kept the blanket respectfully over his lower half once she'd undone the button and zipper. Ellie discarded the soiled garments – setting his belt with the pistol and revolver a short distance away – and withdrew new ones from his seemingly bottomless backpack.
How she got them on him without being able to lift him was a miracle in and of itself, but within a few minutes, she had him fully clothed and tucked in. Before letting herself relax, though, she once again lifted the edge of his shirt to check the wound. It was staring to look bruised, but the stitches were holding and there was no more bleeding or moisture.
Laying a hand on his forehead, she exhaled heavily. 'You'll be okay. I won't let you die, Joel.'
A human cry ripped through the silence of the air, primal and guttural. In the garage, Callus tossed his head and pawed at the ground. Ellie ran to look out the window.
Seven or eight rapidly approaching silhouettes were all she could make out in the darkness.
"Shit," she cursed. "Runners. I forgot to move the bodies."
They surged upon the Clicker carcasses like a pack of wolves – screaming and gnawing and ripping. Crunching, slurping, and tearing.
Ellie's breath fogged the glass until she could see no more, and she slowly backed away.
She drew her new bow silently, before crouching over the prone Joel, protectively.
'We're okay… They don't know we're here.'
She repeated the mantra in her head as the sickening noises continued.
Hoarse cries, a wet squelching, and rapid footfalls in the snow.
The front door burst open above them, and she stifled a noise. Were they following the smell of blood she still had on her? She dared to get up and lock the door connecting the house to their location. Gulping down her shuddering breaths, she moved back to Joel.
Clenching the weapon until she felt the pain of her own nails digging into her skin, she let the numb pain jolt her further into her instincts. Honing her senses, she listened to the flurry of movement above her.
It was just the one, and Ellie hoped it would give up and decide there was no food in here. She could not kill it quietly without opening the creaky door and alerting the others.
Callus, the wonder horse, did not utter a peep from the other room.
So focused was she, that she startled violently at the hand touching her arm. She gave Joel a wild look that the man reciprocated, his hand tightening around the pistol he held. They shared a look that only two people that had survived for several months together could share, before their eyes went silently back to the ceiling.
Crashing sounds and more screaming echoed from above as the rest of the horde entered. Whether they were following the blood on her body or merely seeking warmth, she didn't know.
Finally the first crash came against the door to their room.
'Oh man…' she thought breathlessly.
Joel loaded his gun grimly. Ellie watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, before drawing her bow and aiming it at the door.
Several agonizing minutes ticked by, with nothing but the sound of crashing and screeching. Ellie's arm grew numb with strain, but she did not lower it.
Another minute ticked by. Two.
Finally, the sounds grew dim. The impact on the door halted.
She could still hear them shuffling around upstairs, but they had died down to the anguished sobs she'd come to associate with more restful infected. Slowly lowering her arm, she looked at Joel, to see his eyes closed, though she could tell he was not asleep.
"I think we're safe for the night," she whispered. "I'll stay awake – you rest."
He shook his head, confirming her suspicions about his wakefulness.
"We'll take turns. I can stay awake." His eyes opened to level her with a serious expression.
Ellie wanted to argue, but his tone left no room for discussion, and she only stared back before nodding.
"Okay."
Severely injured or not, she trusted him. He was a good liar, but not good enough; and she knew that at least this time, he was not bluffing when he said he could do it.
"How's your fever?"
"I'm fine," he responded sternly.
That was a lie. But she let it go and instead turned her attention back to the door.
A few seconds passed, before, "What happened to your face?"
She turned back to him again. "What?"
He gestured to his own face with one hand. "The blood. What happened?"
"Oh," she itched at the peeling red liquid again, before rubbing her nose and sniffling. "This house wasn't unoccupied. There were more infected, but I managed by myself." She paused before looking at the ground, "You would've been impressed if you'd seen. They were Clickers."
He hesitated before his gaze morphed into that almost-soft look he sometimes got with her.
"Yeah…" he sighed, expelling a burst of misty breath. "I'll take the first shift, Ellie. You look awful."
She huffed out a laugh. "Gee, thanks." But she recognized the gesture for what it was and did not argue.
Pulling her backpack up, she lie her head down on it and tried to close her eyes. It was going to be another long night.
…
Her consciousness lurched into the waking world with a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Sitting up, she realized how light it was getting in their little room, and looked at Joel.
"Why didn't you wake me up, sooner?" she demanded, "We were supposed to take turns."
"We are," he responded. "Yours starts, now."
"It's fucking dawn," she argued.
He ignored her. "Listen."
She did.
"I don't hear anything," she stated moodily, irritated at his stunt. Then it dawned on her, and her voice changed. "They're gone…"
"Not all of them, there's still one or two of 'em outside," he responded, urgently.
Nodding, she rose to her feet to unlock the door. Opening it quietly, she moved into a crouched position. Pressing herself against the wall, Ellie listened intently.
There. Outside the house. Two pairs of footfalls crunched about in the snow's crust.
The front door was still open from their intrusion last night, and she crept out into the white expanse of ground. She saw the once-humans before they noticed her, and readied her bow.
Pulling it into a graceful arch, she forced herself to hold it steady and aim for the head.
Twang -
The arrow sliced through the morning air, straight towards its goal.
Her brain spared a moment to celebrate as the spearhead hit its mark, piercing deep into the skull of one of the two Runners. However, the moment was broken as the other whirled around, letting out a savage cry before charging at her. Its speed crippled her ability to draw – let alone aim – another arrow.
"Oh shit," she hissed, dropping the bow.
Reacting with a quick speed of her own, Ellie's hand dove into her pocket to draw her switchblade. She barely had time to brace herself, with both hands clasped around the weapon before the humanoid was upon her.
Shoving forward as she was bowled over backwards, she heard a scream and felt the impact; a warm rush of blood over her hands as its own momentum did it in.
Pushing the body off her, Ellie coughed harshly against the smell of blood and fungus. She tugged on her knife, but it only made a squishy sound and stayed stuck in the creature's eye socket. Ellie braced her foot against its shoulder before heaving backwards until the weapon finally came loose. She wiped it off in the snow before heading back inside.
Callus was okay, she found, if not a little shaken up. She spared a few moments to stroke his neck, before Joel calling her name brought her back downstairs.
"Ellie!"
"I'm fine," she assured, peeking through the door. "They're dead."
He sighed in what she could only guess was relief.
"Joel, I'm going to take Callus to move the bodies. Do you need anything before I go?"
"No. Be careful," he warned.
"Of course."
Closing the door behind her, Ellie leaned against the wall to take a few deep breaths and calm her racing heart. After a few seconds, she pushed off and headed to Callus.
…
A/N: Chapter two will hopefully be up, soon! Just bear with me, folks.
And as for infected being cannibalistic, well… They eat regular people, so why not each other, if they need to? To be honest, I have no clue if they are, but it suited the purposes of the fic, so I went with it.