Welcome to a story about The Last of Us I don't have any claims to Naughdog's beautiful work. Enjoy!
"8, 9, 10, really or not, here I come!" I shout, turning and raising my Super Soaker. "You're goin' down Riles." Completely aware that I'm only talking to myself, I taunt the environment I stalk through the mall, I scan every store for signs of movement. I haven't yet found all of Riley's favorite hiding spots, but I intend to. I suddenly stop and kneel. A rack of clothes sways idly in the Hot Topic to my left. I grin and tip toe toward the entrance.
"Hey Riley." I throw my voice into the dark store. "Wanna give up now?" There's no response. "Suit yourself." I fire a stream of cold water across back of the store.
A high-pitched yelp reveals Riley's position in one of the corners. I laugh and charge into the store. I find Riley huddled under hanging sweatshirts, using a sleeve to wipe water from her face.
"Crap!" She shouts, realizing my presence. She grabs her water gun and struggles to run to the other side. I follow close behind, skillfully avoiding her blind fire.
Riley suddenly trips ands falls into a roll. Before she can recover, I kick her gun away and pin her down with a foot on her stomach and my gun pointed at her face. "Any last words?" I joke.
"Yeah." Riley said dramatically. "You smell."
I scoff and unload a pump of water into her face. I then prepare to fire again. "Ok, I'm dead, I'm dead." Riley cries.
"I know." I say coolly. "This is just out of spite."
"C'mon Ellie." Riley says as I fire another stream. "This is never gonna dry."
"Ok, ok." I say, finally relenting. "That makes it 5-3 in my favor." I help Riley up and hand her the gun that I'd kicked away before starting to walk out. As I make my way back into the mall, I'm unexpectedly hit in the back side by a line of water. "Gah!" I say uncomfortably. "Ok I deserved that." I say, trying to reposition my wet pants.
"Damn right you did." Riley says, shooting at my face for emphasis.
"Hey cut it out!" I say, returning fire.
"So much for getting dry." Riley says ceasing her assault.
"Here." I take a black t-shirt from its folded position on a display table and toss it to her. I then grab another and begin to wipe myself down. "You go first this time. No funny stuff."
Riley chuckles and walks out of the store with her soaker resting on her shoulder. I throw the shirt back onto its shelf and join Riley in the mall. "Let's go to the car."
We start walking toward the center of the mall, shoving each other playfully. Despite my victories in our games, Riley is dominant to me and most ways. She's stronger and smarter, but the games I create require speed and stealth which I possess.
Clash, for instance, is game Riley and I invented together. The objective is for one player to find the other and shoot first; it's simple, really. The only difference between out game and tag or hide and seek is that in clash, the hider can fight back. Or in my case, they can run away really fast and hide in some some cranny until the seeker comes around the corner.
Competition is the sticky crap that holds our friendship together. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses as well as we know our own. Weather it's race or arm wrestling or a game of clash, we're always testing each other and determining who's dominant.
The mall is our playground and has been since we found our way in last summer. Getting in wasn't hard, of course; Riley threw a rock at the the sliding glass doors. The problem was getting out. The community is pretty strict about curfews and all that. On some days, like today, we can slip out of our apartment in downtown Boston.
There isn't exactly a lot of exploring to be done, at least not on a large scale. Our original plan was to run away as pathetic as that sounds. We got about a mile and a half out and found the mall. It started as a pit stop, but we ended up staying all day and night. The next morning, we hauled ass back to the city and got a verbal bearing from out surrogate guardian, Marlene.
The next time, we were smarter, and to be frank, we learned a new lesson every time we came out here. Eventually that lead to a beautiful red sports car they had parked inside the mall. It was a great place to just sit and think; we liked to think about how they got the car inside twenty years ago back when the mall was bustling with shoppers.
We turn a corner to the large area in which the vehicle is supposed to be situated. "Where's the car?" Riley said, stopping in her tracks.
"How am I supposed to know?" I say, suspending one eye brow. I slowly walk forward with my soaker raised, defensively.
"Ellie." I turn to see Riley cocking a pistol. "Let me go first."
"Come on Riley." I say smirking. "It can't be anything that serious.
Riley doesn't look persuaded. She marches ahead of me, looking cautiously looking around her. I only follow timidly. She suddenly stops, glaring into a nearby store.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly. I'm always discomforted by her alertness.
"I found the car." She says plainly. She crosses the mall and enters a large store with a name I can't read. I track behind her to find the cherry red sports car sitting peacefully in middle of the store.
"H-how is this possible?" I stutter, walking to the trunk and wiping dust of the silver letters that read "Camaro".
"I don't know." Riley says, dragging her fingers across spoiler. "But I'd rather not think about."
"B-but what if it was something dangerous." I say in a frightened tone. "It could be someone that wants to hurt us."
"I'm almost certain it was." Riley says, somberly. "But I'm not gonna let that interrupt my quality time in the front seat of this car."
I can't help but smile at her as she walks around the left side of the car and climbs into the previously shattered window.
I walk to the right side window and swing my legs in before sliding into the leather seat. "This brings back memories, eh?" I say leaning back in the seat.
"Yeah." Riley throws her feet up on the dashboard. "Good times."
Suddenly, a loud echoing groan is heard from somewhere in the mall. We both jump and glare at each other in response.
"What do we do?" I whisper sharply.
"Stay low and shut up." Riley says sinking into the seat. I copy her motion and try to control my trembling as the distant moans grow louder.