A/N: Alright, time for some action! I know some of you are thinking "UGH finally, gunfights, death, and glory!" This is to shut you up. No, I'm just kidding. We just needed some tension here.

Thank you all once more for the excessively kind words you've given me about this fanfic. Y'all know how to make someone feel good about themselves, so well done you.

I'm definitely still leaning to stretching this to 15 chapters, but it might be less too.

Also, wanted to announce that at the completion of this fanfic I am planning on starting Aftermath: Part II, which will take place right after the end of the game. With this story, I'm constrained to the narrative we know, and have to keep continuity. There's going to be much less restriction when I write that story, and I'm really, really looking forward to writing without a fixed end point I have to reach. As always, I'll do my best to remain true to these two beautiful characters.

Anyway, please read, enjoy, and review!

DISCLAIMER/LEGAL MUMBO-JUMBO: I do not own The Last of Us, it is Naughty Dog's property.

CHAPTER 10

SINCLAIR

The gunfire had come from somewhere on the north end of the sprawling facility. Joel carefully peered around the gate and scanned the distance, looking for any signs of movement or the glint of a scope catching the light. Nothing on the rooftops. The catwalk spanning the street seemed clear as well.

"I got nothin'," Joel said to Ellie, who was still leaning with her back against the brick pillar of the gate. "I'm gonna have to try to get the angle on him."

He took stock of his supplies. Beyond the three rifle rounds, he had five bullets in the revolver, four for the 9mm, and one shotgun shell. A handful of nails and gunpowder he could fashion into a nail bomb if he could get his hands on a can. He took out the bottle with the remaining bourbon and handed it to Ellie.

"Here, this'll take the edge off."

Ellie took the bottle and downed the rest of the liquor, grimacing as it burned through her chest. Joel extended the hunting rifle to her.

"All right... I'm gonna see if I can't get him to give away his position. You get eyes on him, you take him out, yeah?"

"Sure."

Joel hesitated. "This ain't like Pittsburgh. You got three rounds and that's it. Make 'em count-"

"Joel, I fucking know," Ellie cut him off, scowling through the pain as she tested the weight of the rifle with her wounded arm.

"All right," he said, readying himself. "I'm gonna go for the far side of the gate. He'll likely take a shot. Get in position and see if you can spot him."

Ellie rolled to her knees and readied the rifle, waiting for Joel to bolt so she could peer around the pillar in search of the gunman. He looked back at her. She was a tough little cuss, rifle up and at the ready, shrugging off a bullet wound better than a lot of grown men he'd seen.

She turned to meet his gaze. "What are you waiting for? It's time to fucking move!"

"Watch yourself."

"You too."

Joel took a quick peek around the pillar, then poised himself and darted across the gate. As soon as he left his position, Ellie swung the rifle around the pillar and scanned the distance for muzzle flash. The small burst of light came milliseconds before the crack of gunfire, and Ellie fixated on its origin at the end of one of the far catwalks.

"I got 'em," she called to Joel. "Third catwalk down the street, left end." She focused her gaze through the scope, but couldn't make out a silhouette of a body. "I got no shot."

"All right. Bastard's a good shot," Joel said, examining the tattered fabric on the top of his pack where the bullet had gone through. "Don't fire until you have a clear shot on him. He notices you, you hide, got it?"

"Let's get this fucker," is all she said in response.

Joel turned and headed around the outside of the building next to the gate, looking to hop the fence and try to flank the attacker. He strained his ears, hoping to hear a near gunshot rather than a distant one, but there was just silence. He reached a gap in the chainlink fence and crawled beneath it.

The refinery was a maze of brick buildings, pipelines, railings and catwalks. There seemed to be innumerable ways to get from one point to another, which he figured both an advantage and a disadvantage. There were several ways to advance or retreat, but also several ways to be flanked yourself, and there was no indication whether or not this gunman was alone.

Joel vaulted over a concrete barrier and through a window into a large brick building that stood between him and their attacker. The building was dark and cluttered with broken cubicles and furniture. Joel left his flashlight off as not to alert anyone who might be hunting him, making the journey through the building a bit treacherous.

He hadn't been this far away from Ellie since the lakeside resort, and her absence was prevalent in his mind. His instinct pulled at every step, urging him to return to protect her, but he kept reminding himself how capable she was. She was also a crack shot, so she was in the perfect position.

He peered over a windowsill on the second floor. There was no direct line of sight to the far end of the third catwalk, so he leapt over the window and crouched, slowly strafing to try to lay eyes on their attacker. Eventually, the gunman's roost came into view. He was still scanning the end of the street near the gate, but apparently didn't have a shot on Ellie either. He had set up sandbags around his position, and all Joel could see was a sliver of his head and the protruding gun barrel.

The hunter had wisely blocked off the rear approach to his position. The only way to reach his position was to climb the stairs on the other side of the catwalk and cross it, an easily defendable position from the hunter's perspective. Joel scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to distract the hunter or get him to flee the roost, giving Ellie a clear shot. What he would have given for the supplies to craft a Molotov in that moment.

Then, this being an oil refinery, he noticed a barrel at the base of the catwalk. The barrel had the universal symbol for "flammable" and "explosive" prominently displayed on its side. Joel prayed the barrel wasn't empty, drew the revolver slowly, and took aim at the barrel. Hope you're ready for this, kiddo. He figured what he was about to do was probably safe enough. There couldn't be much oil left in the surrounding parts of the refinery after all those years. The explosion should be mostly contained. He hoped.

Focusing the iron sights on the broadest part of the barrel, he slowly squeezed the trigger. The shot rung his ears, but it paled in comparison to the blast that followed. The exploding barrel tore through the support of the catwalk, and the rusted metal began to groan under the newly unsupported weight. Joel saw the hunter catch his balance and then briefly consider his options. Apparently deciding it was the best idea to flee to the far side of the catwalk, he took off running. He had made it three strides before the bullet ripped an uninvited path from his cheekbone to the opposite side of his skull. He was dead before he hit the catwalk.

Through the ringing in his ears, Joel could barely make out Ellie's distant exultations. "Holy shit! I fucking got him! Did you see that Joel?" Joel looked back at the corpse, admired the feat, and raised a thumb in Ellie's direction. He tried to find her silhouette at the end of the street, but she must have hunkered down after he had left her. In his bewilderment, he hadn't heard the footsteps on the catwalk stairs. The last thing he remembered was the distant cry of "Watch out!" before the butt of the shotgun turned the whole world to black.

The world had gone from white to black, and now had begun transitioning to dark grey as he slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he saw, to his overwhelming relief, was a pair of emerald eyes.

"Joel? C'mon, wake up!" she was shaking him.

His head felt like the bullet had hit him rather than the hunter, and he let out a loud groan. "Ellie... wh-what happened?"

His vision slowly returned and he sat up to find Ellie on her knees beside him, cradling the hunting rifle. Over her shoulder he saw the bodies of three hunters.

"You got jumped by a couple more hunters. One of those fuckers cracked you on the head with a shotgun," she said, and looked down at the rifle. "I took them out with my last two rounds."

He put his hands to his head, willing the pain to leave but knowing it would probably linger for quite some time. He looked over at the bodies again. She was a crack shot, as he saw ragged, claret holes on each head. "Thanks for savin' my ass."

"Hey, it was either you or them, right?" she said with a smirk, conjuring a chuckle out of Joel, followed by a grimace of pain.

"We should move. We're not safe, exposed out here like this," he said, scanning the catwalks and buildings around them.

Ellie helped him to his feet and they made their way back to the building Joel had clambered through earlier. Joel slumped into a desk chair and rubbed his temples, still groggy from the blow to the head. Ellie plopped down on a nearby desk and began unwrapping the scarf cinched around the gunshot wound.

"Ah... fuck," she seethed through gritted teeth. "That stings like hell."

"Here, let me," Joel said, moving over to her. He reached into his pack and pulled out his canteen and a clean cloth. After rinsing the gash, he applied some antiseptic they had scavenged from the gas station in Laramie and redressed the wound.

"Thanks," Ellie said. "How's your head?"

"Hurts like hell. Wishin' we still had some of that bourbon left."

"Well, hey, if it makes you feel any better, it did take the edge off."

Joel huffed a muffled laugh. "Good. Let's see if there's anything in this building worth takin', and then get the hell out of here."

Beyond a full roll of duct tape and a couple of box cutter blades, there wasn't much else worth grabbing out of the building. Joel and Ellie cautiously emerged from the building and returned to the winter cold. The area was quiet and clear, with no signs of additional hunters.

"C'mon," Joel beckoned. "We got five miles to Rawlins."

They returned to I-80, the refinery's chimneys retracting into the horizon behind them. Another two hours of trudging and they had reached the outskirts of Rawlins, Wyoming. Four different hotels greeted them at the entrance to the town.

"Go on, take your pick. Fair warnin' though, these won't be like the one in Elk Mountain... or the one in Pittsburgh for that matter. These are your run-of-the-mill eco-suites," he said, observing the faded signs of the Holiday, Hampton, Days and Comfort Inns.

"Mmmmm... Comfort. I could go for some of that," Ellie said as she began walking toward it. Joel smiled to himself and followed after her.

Ellie was slightly disheartened that the inn didn't quite live up to its name. The beds were much firmer than the ones in the Elk Mountain Hotel, and the dusty pillows were stiff and itchy. She longed for the goose down duvet and plush mattress. Joel gave Ellie the right side of the bed so that her wounded arm had plenty of room and he took the side closest to the door, as usual. She gingerly crawled onto the mattress, cradling the arm against her chest.

"Ah... ah... fuck. I got shot you know," she jested, motioning to her arm, "right here."

Joel chuckled. "Yeah, sure did."

"Remind me to never get shot again," she said as she eased herself down.

"Heh. Alright, kiddo." He noticed her reach her right arm across to massage her ribs. "How's that rib doin'?"

She shrugged, "Same old, same old, right? It's getting there, slowly but surely. Tweaked it today while saving your ass."

Joel frowned. "Sorry about that."

"Pshh... you should be! I'm hurting enough already! I got shot you know, right here!" she motioned proudly to her wound again.

"That scar will be a badge of honor one day. You can tell all your friends you got shot."

Ellie grew quiet. All your friends, she thought. The only friends she'd had were dead or gone. Riley was dead. Sam was dead. Marlene was god-knows-where. The icy chill of loneliness began to encroach on her again. She looked over at Joel to halt its advance. "Yeah."

He noticed the pensive expression on her face and reached over to tuck the perpetually rebellious lock of hair behind her ear. "Let's get some rest, alright?"

"Alright," she said, closing her eyes.

Joel waited until her breathing had deepened and slowed, brushed her hair once more, and whispered, "Night, baby girl," before drifting off to sleep himself.

Tonight's dream was a new one.

AFTERMATH CONTINUES

WITH CHAPTER 11