Author's Note:
This is a FanFic I've been planning for a while, but in the grand scheme this was actually put together fairly quickly. I became enchanted by the game The Last of Us; its deep and charismatic characters, the brutally realistic situations, and the journey into humankind and our natures. This narrative will be a multi-chapter endeavor and a full story. Expect several winks, nods, and allusions to the game as I am trying to keep this story directly seated in the canon of the video game. My story, however, will follow brand new characters.
Please note that due to the rating of the source material, this is an M-Rated Fan Fiction for sequences of intense violence, frightening descriptive imagery, and strong language. I felt that one of the most immersive components to The Last of Us was its brutal, uncensored, realistic portrayal of killing as a means to survive. This vulnerability created the legitimate feeling of what was at stake, and is something I wish to retain in my narrative. Therefore, consider this as my warning; this story is intended for mature viewing.
As this account on FanFiction is under the same screen name as my Deviant Art account, megaFAUCET, I'm going to be using the two together in tandem for the duration of this story. Posted on my Deviant Art profile will appear development and concept art I devised while planning the story out, as well as illustrations of key moments and individual Chapter Cover Art. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and as I type this it is still a work in progress. I hope you all enjoy it!
Sincerely,
megaFAUCET
Winter is the most unforgiving season. It takes the most from you, and it gives the least back. I can remember a time when the first snowfall meant good things; snow days, Christmas Break, snowball fights. Now, the first snowflakes signify one thing only, that life is about to get a lot harder. It doesn't matter how many first snows I see, they'll always give me the chills in more ways than one.
I don't know why I'm starting this journal so far after the outbreak. Seems like anything interesting that people would want to read about has already happened. Or been chronicled by some ten-year-old with crayons.
My name is Eric Mason. I am an orphan, I am a nomad, and I am a survivor.
This autumn, the outbreak celebrated its twentieth anniversary. But for us, there ain't a damned thing to be celebrating. Two decades. Two long decades. Will this ever end?
Eric stared at his handwriting for a while, tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the side of his journal. The actual process of writing, the physical act of putting his thoughts on paper, soothed his mind and offered him a slight bit of solace in this chaotic world. That was probably his primary motivation for writing in it; if it were ever found it'd probably just be used as kindling. He closed the journal and stuffed it into his backpack, leaning back on the old chair and feeling it creak in slight protest. He felt a small tightness in the lower third of his back and he shifted, relieving it. His thirty years had not been kind, and he felt much older than he was, grimacing before the pain abated and he relaxed again. He scratched his head, thick brown hair ruffling in his fingers.
It was rather strange to be back in the Denver area. While his hideout was a considerable distance from the Denver Quarantine Zone, he could still see its massive walls. When the morning mist was just right, the cool light gray of their concrete structure made their silhouettes bleed into the horizon, as if the zone disappeared altogether. The old capital of Colorado wasn't an unbelievably dense metropolis, but it was still odd to see it so deserted. During his scavenging runs deeper into the city to find food, supplies and medicine he could still see remnants of the initial struggle that he remembered experiencing himself so vividly in Golden. Ferns punched through the concrete and embraced whole cars, abandoned in the chaos and mayhem of the outbreak's first months. He could gaze into old coffee shops and see chairs knocked over next to tables where menus still rested awaiting a customer that would never come. Water had bled through and flooded the streets in lower lying areas, and the vegetation reclaiming the architecture was thick and lush. The world had gotten lonely.
"Wake up, old man."
It was indeed a lonely world. But she made it a little better.
"We good?" Eric turned his head towards her as she clambered through the window.
Emma unholstered her pistol and set it on the table, reaching for her backpack. "For now. Air's getting a lot colder out there, though. But I think the snow will wait a little longer."
"It won't now that you've said that." Eric stood, donning his own backpack. He walked over to the table and the two of them silently began pushing bullets into their magazines. Occasionally, the two would fall silent, but still know exactly what the other was thinking. There were still a few hours left before sunset, and it was foolish to scavenge in broad daylight this close to a Zone. Just at dusk, when the shadows began to close in, had proved to be the most opportune time to search for supplies. He chose not to speak of what lay ahead of them. He knew that today wouldn't be an easy journey.
"Not even close." Emma said as she closed the steel locker. The two were now several dozen blocks from their hideout, the Q.Z.'s walls now a faint wisp in the distance. They had learned quickly that the less urban areas tended to have more things that were left behind, and their mostly empty backpacks were slowly being filled with random assorted items. In addition to their relative wealth of supplies, the outskirts of the cities could sometimes harbor less Infected, as the routine noises of military activity closer to the Zones drew the fungal beasts further into the city. They weren't alone in their knowledge of this tactic, though. Some survivors routinely patrolled these areas in search of unsuspecting passers. They differed from Hunters, though, who found a permanent place to call home and defended it. These groups of survivors which Eric had nicknamed Skimmers were quick, efficient, silent, and lethal.
Emma opened a cabinet, the dim beam from her flashlight dancing around inside. "Also not even close. What is this, painter's tape?" She tossed the weak, blue roll behind her back in disgust.
"I doubt we'll find any actual duct tape," Eric said without turning around, pushing aside rotten food in an aged refrigerator. "I'm going to hit the next house before we leave."
"Let's do that sooner rather than later. Sun's already down," She said. "Watch yourself."
These small communities were not unlike the one that Eric had been born into. The memories tried crawling back into his brain but he forced them back down, focusing on the task at hand. He rummaged through the cabinets and opened drawers. He peeked under the tables and lifted couch cushions. He threw a pair of scissors and three screwdrivers into his pack and turned to explore the other side of the house.
"Shh!"
Eric froze mid-step. It was quiet, almost imperceptible, but he heard it. Somewhere upstairs he swore he heard a voice, a hasty command of stealth.
"Find anything?" Emma crawled through a window behind him.
Eric held his hand up and she fell silent. The two of them listened closely, the smallest sounds now raucous crashes. His hand still raised, Eric turned his head to look over his shoulder at Emma.
"What?" She mouthed.
Eric paused, waited, and pointed upwards. He began slowly walking towards the staircase. Everything was a noise to be focused on and analyzed in a split second. The brush of the gentle breeze through the windows as they stirred the tattered curtains, the soft crush of his boots on the carpet, the gentle creaking of the wood underneath, the sound of metal sliding against denim as Emma drew the Sig Sauer from her back pocket, and the quiet mechanical click as she flipped the safety off.
Approaching the top of the stairs, Eric motioned with his hands and the two parted to search opposite ends of the second floor. He stooped and quietly unsheathed his broad double-edged boot knife before continuing to make his way through the hall. Even with low, frigid looking clouds slinking along the horizon, the sliver of sunlight yet to sink into slumber pierced through the windows more easily on the upper floor. Golden rays bounced off of the yellow wallpaper speckled with tiny white diamonds. The entire hallway seemed to be aflame. His breath, visible in the chilly corridor, floated lazily away from his mouth. He didn't get far, though, before he heard a short and high-pithed scream from behind him followed by a rapid volley of gunshots.
"Emma!" Eric whipped around and charged towards the sound and burst into the room just in time to hear a shaky yet brave voice speak.
"Give me one reason, lady."
Eric stood, surprised and feeling slightly useless as he clutched his knife, which felt small and pitiful now. Emma had her pistol aimed at a young boy holding a military-issue assault rifle. Behind this boy was a girl, likely of the same age, grasping an ax that seemed larger than she was with its head pointed in the same direction. Smoke wafted from the barrel of the rifle and Eric's eyes briefly darted to the far wall, three fresh bullet holes puncturing the yellow wallpaper.
The boy's mouth was clamped tightly in aggression, his blue eyes staring at Emma as bright blonde hair fell from his head in an untidy fashion. The University of Eastern Colorado Ram was emblazoned on the left sleeve of his dirty gray shirt, and the faded yellow short-sleeve cuffs were frayed. Behind him the girl's bright blue eyes, wide open, seemed to quiver behind a small tuft of hair that fell over one side of her face, the blonde strands identical in hue to the boy's. Beneath a thick gray zippered sweatshirt, her pink tank top was smudged with dirt, but Eric could barely make out the Savage Starlight text racing across the fabric at an angle.
Eric could see the fire in Emma's eyes, burning underneath random strands of short, strawberry blonde. Her pistol moved not an inch, its sights buried in the direction of the boy's skull. She spoke gently, but remained physically emotionless, her gun still held true. "How about we both settle down."
The boy's bright blue eyes flitted to Eric. "If he moves I'll blow his head off."
"Something tells me this wouldn't be your first kill." Emma said, again gentle in vocal meter.
"What difference does that make?" It wasn't really a question, more just a statement.
This kid's got some guts. Eric thought to himself. If he was in Emma's position, he probably would have already shot the boy the second he opened fire. No sense taking a risk that the three rounds in the wall were the last ones in the magazine.
But Emma remained calm, very slowly lowering her pistol and pointing it at the floor. "It can make a lot of difference."
"Kodi…" The young girl spoke softly. "She lowered hers."
Kodi, apparently the boy holding the rifle, paused for a long moment. Finally, his grip relaxed and he lowered the gun, but remained alert. "What do you want?"
"Supplies," Emma said simply. "Why else would we be up in some random house."
"Who sent you to find us?" Kodi asked.
"Ourselves."
"How many others are coming?"
"It's just us two as far as we know."
"As far as you know?"
Emma narrowed her eyes. "Look, kid. We're just trying to find basic supplies. We're by ourselves. I don't really care if you believe that or not."
"I believe you." The girl said abruptly.
"Jessa!" Kodi hissed.
The girl glared at him. "Maybe they can help us."
"We don't even know who they are."
Jessa pointed at Emma. "He yelled 'Emma' before he came running in. So that's Emma."
"I don't care what her name is."
"You know we can hear everything you're saying, right?" Emma said dully.
Kodi looked up at her, a pained distrust in his eyes. "Just leave, okay? Please."
Eric was suddenly taken aback by the boy's shift in mood from aggressive and confrontational to borderline desperate. He gestured to his partner. "Em…"
Emma held her gaze on the boy for a moment. "Fine. We'll go. Eric, let's head back."
She flipped the safety on her pistol, holstered it in her back pocket, and walked out of the room as if nothing ever happened. Eric followed. He could hear the two children talking in low voices as he descended the stairs.
"Mom and dad told us not to trust anyone."
"No they didn't, stop telling me that!" Jessa whispered furiously. "I heard them. They said to be safe, and we'll be safe with those two."
"How do you know that?"
"They didn't shoot at us when they saw us. They're at least different than most other people we've seen."
"Jessa, they're just two random people."
"So are we…"
There was a pause. "Do you honestly trust them? You're crazy. We just met them."
Another pause. "It'd be better than hiding in this stupid house another night."
Emma had stopped at the bottom step and was standing listening to the conversation upstairs. Her shoulders seemed to sag a bit.
Eric had known her for long enough to be able to predict what she was thinking with a fair amount of accuracy, and he reached out to her. "Don't. There's nothing we can do for them."
Emma looked at Eric over her shoulder, her expression suddenly turning hard as she spoke quietly. "Do you even hear them up there? They're scared, they're probably by themselves, and the way they talk I don't think their parents are just out scavenging."
"What if they're just a decoy for a group of Skimmers?"
Emma glared at him. The conversation had gone quiet upstairs, and the cool evening breeze stirred her fiery bangs. She brushed it out of her face. "They're siblings, Eric. That by itself should mean something to you of all people."
Before Eric could object or even react, Emma had removed his hand from her shoulder and was pushing past him and walking back up the stairs. He heard her footsteps stop as she arrived at the room.
"You two need a place to stay?"
"Is this place safe?" Kodi looked around the dingy old apartment.
"It has been for as long as we've been here." Eric told him.
Kodi walked over to the window, cautiously looking out the dirty glass. "How long is that?"
"Few days."
"Psh…" Kodi mumbled. Jessa went over to him and leaned her ax on the ground against the window frame. She put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
The apartment was a modest and small space. An old moving blanket was spread out on the floor and the carpet was torn in multiple places. Smudges of what looked like blood were spattered on a wall in the kitchen, and one of the windows was boarded up with aged and cracked wood. A box of ammunition sat atop a round wooden table, with a knife plunged into the top and a baseball bat propped up next to it. Blue wallpaper peeled off in large strips, exposing the wood underneath, some of it rotten.
Eric set his backpack down and eased himself into a chair, staring at the two siblings. "So what are we doing with you two? You need escorted through the city? You need to get some place in particular?"
"I thought… I don't know. Maybe we can help each other." Jessa said in a small voice.
"You want to get rid of us already?" Kodi said.
Emma, sitting on the floor not far from the kids, shot Eric a look as she broke a small cracker in two. "We're not used to having company that doesn't have some sort of urgent mission. We help get people into or past the city, whether it's going to the Zone, escaping it, or just traveling through."
"Why?" Jessa asked innocently.
Oh boy… Eric thought. It had been a while since he'd been around a young person, with their constant slew of questions.
"Why?" Emma said, unprepared for an answer to such a simple question. She searched for an answer.
"Honestly there ain't a whole lot more to do these days," Eric said, pulling his boot knife out and reaching for a sharpening stone. "The people coming through here don't have an easy job. Just traveling in general is dangerous as hell. We try to make the journey a little easier on them, and in exchange they'll give us food, ammo, clothes or stuff like that."
Jessa looked slightly confused. "No, I mean, why would anyone want to leave a Quarantine Zone?"
Emma paused, memories flooding her mind, before answering. "Everyone has different reasons. Trust me; the Q.Z. isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's not a great way to live."
"Oh." Jessa said, noting the hint of sadness and remembrance clouding Emma's eyes. While confused about Emma's apparent repulsion to the Quarantine Zones, she chose not to press any further at this time and watched Kodi set his assault rifle down gingerly. He made the weapon safe, removed the magazine, and popped the round out of the chamber.
"Let's just say we've both been in that situation before, and it wasn't easy at all." Emma said, observing Kodi's weapon handling before taking a small bite of her cracker.
Jessa fiddled with her shoelace for a moment. "So you've only been here for a few days. Where were you before?"
"All over," Emma said, becoming more relaxed. "All around Colorado, into Wyoming and Utah a few times, lots of places."
Kodi spoke up now. "How come you didn't stay in any of those places?"
"It's not a good idea to stay in one place too long," Eric said between strokes on his blade. "You get too comfortable, you get cocky, and these days that's the easiest way to die. Keep moving, keep the military and other survivors wondering where you're going to end up next. It also gives us a better knowledge of the land; we can point people in the direction with the fewest Infected, towards the nearest town, and stuff like that."
"Oh," Jessa's voice again. "So, are we staying here very long?"
Eric sighed. Didn't these kids have somewhere to go, somewhere that wouldn't involve him having to look out for them and be responsible for their lives? It seemed like their parents were no longer in the picture, but they must have some relatives or family friends that could watch them.
"We were going to leave tonight. Meet up with a friend who lives a few hours from here." Emma said shortly, staring at the other piece of her cracker.
"Um…" Kodi started. "Isn't that, like… Super dangerous? To walk around at night?"
Eric leaned on his knee, waving the sharpening stone in Kodi's direction. "Danger knows no schedule, kid. But you can hide better at night time, sneak around and hopefully avoid any hot situations. Night isn't any more dangerous, but it's easier to slip by unseen."
Jessa looked over at Emma. "Is that how you've gotten all of your escort people through?"
Emma nodded. "Not the first time we've done this. We'll leave in a few hours, so if you two need to sleep, I suggest you get some shuteye while you can."
Like any pair of ten year olds, Kodi and Jessa were out within a few minutes. The two had curled up underneath the massive moving blanket and fallen asleep beneath one of the windows, a bright moon glaring through the window. All survivors of the post-outbreak world welcomed the luxury of lulls in the chaos and the chance to actually sleep soundly. Emma was packing the rest of their belongings into their backpacks as Eric walked over and began speaking in a hushed voice.
"Em', how long are we going to let them tag along with us?" He knelt down next to her, stuffing some rolled up rags and torn-off strips of old clothes into his pack.
"As long as they need to." Emma said without missing a beat, not taking her eyes off of her current task.
"You know they'll just slow us down." Eric said.
Emma stopped what she was doing and glanced over at the two. Jessa stirred slightly and Kodi was snoring very softly. Eric wasn't wrong; every time they'd escorted a group with children they'd barely gotten out alive. Kids had a tendency to be clumsy and hasty, which was lethal in this world. They were inexperienced fighters, physically weaker, and usually weren't very light footed. But couldn't Eric see how alone they were? She looked over at Kodi and Jessa for a moment as she pondered this. She doubted that Kodi would be helpless; after seeing his display with the assault rifle he seemed, at the very least, capable and brave. She hoped this didn't translate into impulsivity when he was actually under fire. But Jessa was different. Maybe it was innocence, maybe she was just naïve, or maybe her brother had sheltered her and turned her eyes away from the more visceral and horrific parts of the world they now lived in.
Emma looked at Eric. "Look, they're coming with us. You heard them; they don't have anywhere else to go. This is no different than when you and Elliot…"
"Stop," Eric closed his eyes. "Okay, fine. They can travel with us."
Emma nodded, appearing satisfied.
Eric stood. "Just know that I'm not a huge fan of this whole babysitting thing."
Eric vaulted into the window silently, off of the abandoned city street. The moonlight sprinkled everything with a thick, silky, silver glow. Crumbled buildings from the government's bombing in the first few years of the outbreak loomed over the four as they stalked along in the shadows of the old building. Eric could see the faint outline of the mountains in the far distance. He motioned to the others behind him.
"Stay down, I think I hear something up ahead."
Kodi gripped his assault rifle tighter.
As they quietly made their way into what appeared to be the courtyard of an old hotel, they heard the distinct and unmistakable sound; those agonized, echoing, primal clicks and hiccups. Eric held his hand up, signaling the others to stop moving.
"Great…" Emma said under her breath. She and the two kids sneaked up and crouched just behind Eric.
Remaining in the shadows, Eric swiftly and silently slipped his backpack off, unzipping it. He pulled out a broken piece of a car's side mirror from his backpack, the shard taped onto a broken arrow.
"The hell is that?" Kodi whispered to Emma, who put her finger over her lips.
Eric slowly extended the mirror into the doorway, tilting it to look around the courtyard. Stumbling and twitching near a smashed table, a Clicker ambled about as another one dozed motionless not far away. Eric, not looking away from the mirror, held up two fingers to let the others know how many Infected he'd spotted. He swiveled the mirror some more, searching the courtyard's reflection for a way to maneuver around them unnoticed. The air was very still and the night was unbelievably quiet. With very little wind and the noises of the Zone now miles away, every sound was amplified in the echoing presence of brick and concrete. It wasn't impossible, though. They'd have to move slowly, sacrificing expediency for…
BLAM.
Eric retracted his mirror and pressed his back against the wall. Emma instinctively grabbed Jessa, throwing her hand over the young girl's mouth an instant before she screamed, with only a small squeak escaping. Kodi's body rattled and he nearly dropped the rifle.
One of the Clickers roared, its hoarse cry reverberating off of the concrete.
"Oh shit! There's another one!" A male voice cried out, followed by four more gunshots. Eric could hear one of the shots ricocheting off of something metal, a second plowing into a concrete structure, and the final two finding their mark. The bullets impacted with soft thwacks and the throaty clicks and croaks faltered and went silent.
"Damn! You good?" A second voice sounded.
The first voice let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I only saw the one."
"Whew! Alright, I'll check the bodies for anything."
Emma drew her pistol as she released her hand from Jessa, whose eyes were still wide open though she remained silent. She gripped her ax steadily without shaking or trembling, but Emma could tell the girl's nerves were on edge.
"Ooh," One of the men called to his partner. "This one had a pack of smokes on them."
"Man, I ain't putting that shit in my mouth." The other scoffed.
"Are you kidding? They're not even opened, they're fresh."
The second man started to say something, and then just sighed. "Let's just go. Maybe they found those two blonde kids by now."
Eric felt his heart stop cold. No, no that couldn't be right. He had to have heard them wrong. He heard the first man kick the Clicker's body as he walked away.
"You don't want to check the rest of the hotel?"
The second man spoke. "Not after seeing two of those things just out in the open. I ain't taking any chances by going in there, especially at night. Now come on."
"Those kids better have something good on them for as long as they've been looking."
"They were part of that bigger group we took out a couple months ago. Remember how much loot they had on them? It'll be worth it. Dillon said he just saw them last week, and there's no way those little kids could've last this long without some sort of food stash and crap." The voices got softer as the two men departed.
The four were silent for a brief instant after the voices of the men had disappeared.
"Kodi…" Jessa began quietly.
Whatever she was about to say was abruptly cut short by a series of clicks behind them. Eric turned and looked around wildly. Something flashed inside of the hotel. He peered through the dirty glass, seeing moonlight piercing through the windows in shafts of dust. A Clicker, much closer than Eric had initially thought it sounded, stumbled through one of the light shafts for an instant, then disappeared into the darkness again as it ambled blindly in their direction.
"We got to run. Go!" With his mirror still in one hand, he took off moving quietly but swiftly. He could hear the others behind him. As the four of them clambered over halves of buildings and crumbled walls, he knew that the Clickers would soon be a non-issue. But just like so many times before, the Infected were the least of his worries.