"Twin Falls, population - " Ellie started, but then suddenly stopped upon seeing Joel stumble beside her and rest both hands on his knees.

Fuck he doesn't look good - saw it right away when he woke up this morning.

"Joel - what's wrong - talk to me," she immediately said with concern as she darted to his side.

He let out a horrid cough and felt his entire body shudder in a sickening discomfort. He shook his head and tried to chase away the punishing symptoms of his illness that were rapidly worsening by the minute.

"Just... goddamn - somethin's off Ellie - I - "

"No shit! C'mon, talk to me. What's going on - what're you feeling?" she frantically continued, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Her level of concern was endearing and she cared not to restrain any of her true feelings. He was the most important thing, as she was to him. Seeing him so sick was making her sick.

He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. Right away, his appearance struck her as weak and nauseous and she could sense his condition quickly deteriorating.

Holy shit - he's sweating bullets but it barely feels over fifty degrees out here.

"I - I dunno... I'm feelin' queasy as hell - can't stop my hands from shakin' like damn leaves an' I think I'm gonna - I'm gonna - oh shit - " he mumbled before turning around and bending over once more.

"What? You're gonna wha - "

All of a sudden, his whole body convulsed and he fell to his knees. Within seconds, he let out a choking sound as he gagged then immediately followed it with a spray of vomit onto the asphalt.

Ohhhhhhhh fuck! Gross!

"Oh my god! Joel!" she spouted as she knelt down to rub his back.

"Jesus kiddo - feel like shit - ain't gonna lie... oh fu... hang on - got another - "

He convulsed again, feeling his abs spasm and tighten as they sucked into his navel. Another shot of bile, water and half-digested breakfast spurted from his mouth.

"Shit Joel - okay, fuck this - we're done for the day. We are getting you horizontal and calling it quits."

He waved an arm, as if he could somehow shoo her away and tried to gently shift out of her empathetic touch, resisting her caring and intelligent desire. He wiped his mouth a sleeve and struggled to take a deep breath.

"No, no - I'm okay, I'm fine. We can keep goin' - think I'm better after - oh shi - here's anoth - "

He violently heaved again, this time barely spitting up any fluid.

Oh no - he's dry heaving. He's really sick. I don't care what he says, we're finding a place to rest right fucking now.

She clamored to his side once again, refusing to let him pull away. She knew he was fading fast and needed rest. Most of all, she knew he needed her. And she'd be damned if she lost him to something so trivial, compared to the multitude of other ways to lose a life, as a flu or fever.

"No! Joel - look at you! You're not okay!" she snapped with worry.

She gently pressed the back of a hand to his forehead, feeling the burning heat which effused from his wet-to-the-touch skin. The sweat dripping from his brow left a slimy, glistening streak across her knuckles. His skin felt far too warm and clammy and she could see his shirt beginning to soak from his constant, sickly perspiration. Her eyes widened and she brought her other hand up to once again feel the heat radiating off of his forehead, half convinced experiencing it the first time was a mirage or some kind of joke.

It wasn't. He was burning up.

"Jesus - you're on fire. You're burning the hell up. We're fucking done for the day and getting you comfortable. C'mon - get up, lean on me - here we go," she demanded as protective instincts of her own filled her to the brim.

This time, he made no attempted resistance. He finally accepted that this grave cold, flu or fever, or some combination of all three, he didn't even know which, was utterly debilitating and let her take complete control. He needed her to, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

He slowly rose to his feet, feeling his limbs tremble and shake all the way up.

She tucked herself under his armpit and let his arm fall across her back and dangle over her shoulder. Again, she noticed the change of his scent. He smelled different, he smelled like he was ailing and she could feel his muscles weakly quiver and almost buckle under his own weight like overcooked pasta. She'd never felt him like this before. He felt wobbly, unbalanced and uncontrolled as he let his weight fall against her. Her little frame was just barely able to keep him on his feet.

He stumbled after their first few steps, panting heavily and nearly taking her to the ground with him as his entire body suddenly felt like nothing but limp, dead-weight.

Shit! No, no, no - c'mon!

"C'mon, c'mon - stay with me! We're gonna find a place to rest, I promise. I need you to stay with me for just a little bit longer - c'mon, please!" she begged him, straining under his weight after every step.

He coughed again and slowly nodded his head, drool and remnants of vomit lightly dripping from his lips.

"Uh-huh - alright - I - "

"Shh - don't fucking waste your energy talking, focus on standing okay? I don't have Callus anymore so I can't drag your ass around. You gotta help me out here - just a little bit."

"Yes... yes ma'am," he said, straining to push the few words across his tongue.

They slowly trudged their way into the center of town and she frantically glanced around, desperately looking for a place to hide and rest. It was dead silent and not even the sound of a light breeze trickling down the main drag whispered in the air. The road was oddly clean, no automobiles or bodies lined the streets and nearly every building that surrounded them had their windows boarded up. There was no trash, no heaps of scrap metal littered over the road and sidewalk, giving the entire area an eerie, almost too-good-to-be-true feel.

It was far too quiet and something, for some reason, felt off. Something in her gut was telling her so.

I... I don't like the look of this - sorta reminds me of Pittsburgh.

"Joel - this... something's not right. I - I don't like this place," she nervously said, temporarily forgetting she was the one who had to be strong and take charge in this rare moment of crippling weakness from him.

His whole body shuddered once more and he slowly lifted his head to take in the strange surroundings. He grunted and grimaced, in part from his physical agony but also from the bizarre sight.

She was right, it was odd. He didn't like it either. But, they had no choice. They both knew he wasn't making it much further.

"Just... find - "

"Shh, shh - I know. Gah, okay - here we go, here we go - c'mon," she stammered, still only barely managing to support his larger frame as they slowly walked along.

Shit, shit, shit - c'mon, gimme something - anything. There's gotta be - aha! Yes! Something that's not boarded up!

She heaved a sigh of relief and re-positioned herself under his armpit.

"There! That's not closed off - only one entrance too - c'mon almost there," she said.

"Yeah... alright," he mumbled.

They trudged their way towards the abandoned, small building she spotted that stood to their left, just down the street. She constantly peaked her head up and scanned their surroundings, anxious to know whether her earlier uneasy feeling was or wasn't merely paranoia.

They approached the door and she gently rested him against the wall, helping him slowly slide down against it into a sitting posture.

"Okay - wait here, I'm gonna see if it's clear - one sec."

She knelt down and pressed an ear to the door, listening for anything inside. Like the rest of the town and their current environment, it was silent, eerily quiet, and though she was relieved to hear nothing inside, her distrust of the area was growing by the second.

"All clear - c'mon, here we go," she said, leaning down to help him to his feet.

His head limply sidled to and fro and he mumbled an incoherent a response as his limbs continued to shake.

"Joel! C'mon - get up!"

He clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to suppress his extreme exhaustion and increasingly crushing symptoms. He slowly rose and quickly rested his weight against her before they stumbled through the door.

Within seconds, he collapsed and rolled onto the floor, sprawling his limbs out as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

She slammed the door closed and scrambled as she slid two nearby chairs up against it, blocking it shut. After turning back around, she took a second to catch her breath and take note of the interior of their temporary resting place for the day.

It was an old laundromat. Large, rusted and lengthy steel rods trailed along the walls and ceiling, all leading to a massive, smashed and broken down machine in the rear of the small space. The floor was a dirty, black and white checkered linoleum. Several pieces of it were torn and peeled from the sub-flooring in various places. A narrow, white counter extended halfway across the room with an old and destroyed cash register on its surface. To her, nothing looked out of the ordinary, except for one, blatant, obvious thing.

Not a single article of clothing hung from the steel rods. The entire place was barren, empty, and appeared to have already been ransacked clean.

Shit. Someone's been here already. It's fucking hunters - I know it.

Joel let out a groan as he rolled onto his side, flopping an arm over his chest as if it was a flimsy, wet piece of cloth. The sound drew her attention back to him, causing her to let out some kind of indecipherable, nervous noise, a noise filled with love, care or even fear, neither of them knew which, as she ran over and knelt beside him.

She placed a hand on his forehead once again and cringed at the amount of heat permeating from his brow.

"Fuck... you're burning up - hang on," she said under her breath.

She threw off her backpack and wiggled Joel's off as well then began tearing through them, trying to find their sleeping bag, hoping to give him a softer surface to lie on. She frantically tugged it out of his pack and quickly unrolled it, crawling on her hands and knees as she flattened it out.

Her eyes passed over the massive tear down the middle from the other night, when he had his horrific nightmare. Noticing it again sent a chill down her spine and caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to keep her mind focused on the task at hand.

He needed her in this moment and she knew it.

"Here - lie down, c'mere," she said, tugging on his arm as she tried to roll him over onto the sleeping bag.

He let out another sickened grunt before barking another scratchy cough.

C'mon Ellie - he needs you right now. You got this, you can do it.

He slowly wiggled and shifted his way onto the sleeping bag then let out a deep breath of his own as he continued to gaze up at the ceiling.

She again rummaged through her pack, seeking their water canteen and one of the small washcloths they'd collected during their journey. In a frenzy, she twisted off the cap of the canteen and tossed it aside then dowsed the cloth with water, half of the fluid missing the fabric entirely and pouring onto the floor due to her frantic state.

She gasped. And in dread she watched the last, final drop escape from the nozzle of the canteen.

"No! Oh no! Shit!" she exclaimed.

"Huh - wha... what is it?" he slowly said, turning his head to face her with barely opened eyes.

She looked at him in horror while vigorously shaking the empty bottle up and down, demonstrating that they were out of life's most precious liquid.

His eyes simply glazed over and he let out another groan as he rolled his head back the other way. And for the first time, she actually heard him, Joel, this hardened, nearly dead-at-the-core of a man, pout.

Fuck! What're we gonna do! Wait - first things first, don't waste what you've already used - cool his ass off.

The increasingly gaunt look across his face, coupled with his green-around-the-gills appearance ached her heart. Every part of her wished he could magically return to his normal state. It pained her to seem in such misery. She fidgeted in her kneeling posture and slightly wrung out the washcloth then draped it over his forehead.

His lips quivered and he let out an exasperated sigh of relief, feeling the refreshing, cold touch of the cloth on his skin.

It felt divine.

"There we go, you're okay, you're okay. Everything's gonna be fine," she softly said, resting a small hand on the washcloth.

I've gotcha.

She could still feel the heat from his brow trickling through the cold piece of fabric and knew it wouldn't remain cool for long. Within seconds and without even thinking, she returned to the place she'd come to call home, snuggled in his arms or up against him in some way, any way.

She lay down and curled up against him, bringing her hand down to rest on his chest. She painstakingly listened to each of his wheezy, strained breaths and watched him slowly close his eyes, refusing to take hers off of him and let alone even blink. She lay there for minutes, making sure each and every one of his breaths went off without a hitch. She worried that any moment in which she looked away would provoke the cold hand of death and he would be ripped away from her, even though she knew the thought bordered on the absurd.

Sheesh - now I know why he's so paranoid... I get it.

The presence of her, the cooling touch of the floor against his back and the cold washcloth on his skin all fought his discomfort in unison. The combination of each remedy gave him just enough to strength to put forth a rational thought. He cleared his throat and finally spoke coherently.

"You got no idea how damn good that cloth feels," he softly muttered, somehow with a lighthearted snicker.

She needed to hear him laugh. And he knew it.

His voice eased away a scant amount of her worry and she let out a small sigh of relief.

"Yeah - guess I don't. You better like it though - last of the water."

"I know - it'll be alright," he responded as he patted a hand along his chest, searching for hers.

Immediately, as if the action had become a pure, subconscious reflex, she assisted him and slid hers underneath it, intertwining their fingers. She watched his lips stretch into a small smile upon grasping his hand, pulling one across her face as well.

"I'm here - I'm not fucking losing you," she softly said.

He coughed again.

"It's gonna be fine. I'll be okay - just a fever, flu - or some damn combination of the two - hell if I know," he mumbled with his eyes closed, still lying flat on his back.

"I know... I just - "

"You worry?" he said with another small smile, slightly tilting his head towards her.

Fucker - he's gonna make me say it.

She blushed and even though he couldn't see the flush in her cheeks, he sensed it. In his head, he could picture the familiar rosy shade that encompassed her cheeks and the image made his smile grow, which only enlarged her smile as well.

"Yes," she timidly peeped.

"It's gonna be fine sweet pea - I promise - just give my broken ass a couple hours here an' we'll be good to go," he assured her, reaching a hand up to pat her on the head.

He was giving everything he had to maintain his composure. His body was on the verge of shivering and shaking with such intensity from his fever but he refused to let himself to display another level of weakness in front of her. It would scare her if he did, or so he thought. However, it was only a matter of minutes before he couldn't restrain it any longer and his tough, hardened, outer-shell finally cracked.

His head hurt and ached so bad. It felt as if someone was driving a stake into his skull with a hammer. Goosebumps rose on his skin as chilling shakes and trembles began to overpower his limbs. Before long, his hands, feet, arms, legs and even torso started uncontrollably twitching and shivering. It looked as if he was almost vibrating from the constant, unintentional, tiny motions.

His teeth started to chatter and his breathing intensified as he tried, but failed, to keep himself under control.

"J-J-Jesus... I'm - I - I'm f-fuckin' sh-shakin' here," he struggled to say, stuttering in between each word.

Shit - it has to be a fever. I remember getting one back in the orphanage - fucking sucked.

"Shhh - I know, I know - it's okay. It's definitely a fever. I had one like this once - blows doesn't it?"

He managed to let out another small snicker in between his irrepressible shivers and smiled at her blunt response.

"S-sure does."

She reached over into his backpack, searching for the soft blanket that Maria left them before leaving Jackson. She unfolded it and flung it over him, hoping it would help keep him warm.

"There - that should help... I hope."

"It is... b-barely," he responded.

Even with the added warmth, he still violently shook under the blanket and he searched for her hand once again. Right away she gripped it with hers, without even thinking.

What else can I do... umm... right! Food! They always said at the orphanage when I was sick - feed a fever, starve a cold.

"Wait - you should eat something. Feed a fever, starve a cold right?" she said, reaching for both of their bags again.

He let out another painful cough.

"D-d-don't b-bother - I ain't gonna k-keep it down, I know it. 'Sides... y-you - you gotta eat kiddo. You sh-should have what's l-left," he struggled to say through his chattering teeth.

She could see the sweat pouring from his brow and down his neck. The touch of his skin felt like hell fire to her, but he violently shivered as if he were freezing and there wasn't a single doubt in her mind that it was a fever. A particularly devastating one at that.

"No! You need to eat something! I'll force it down your throat if I have to and I know you - " she stopped and her eyes widened in fear at the realization that their bags were barren when it came to items of sustenance.

"W-what is it k-kiddo?" he asked with worry.

Oh no! No, no, no! Oh god - no! No more food!? Are you fucking kidding me right now!?

"Shit! We're completely out of food - I didn't know we - fuck!" she stammered, angrily throwing her pack aside.

She shifted into a cross-legged position and drooped her head. The nerve wracking thought of having no comestibles caused her to uncomfortably fidget in fear. She couldn't sit still, not when he was in such agony.

He sensed her mind unraveling due to the situation at hand and gently placed a hand on her knee, trying to soothe her. Even in his sickened state, her well being was his number one concern. He wanted her to eat.

She needed to eat soon or she would succumb to her body's constant, unquenchable thirst for energy and pass out. And she wanted him to eat, hoping any amount of food would help fight his fever.

But none of it mattered. They had nothing left. Once again, they found themselves in a seemingly hopeless and dire set of circumstances with nothing to cling to except each other.

She looked at her hands in despair then pressed them against her head as she looked up at the ceiling in frustration. She could already feel the early effects of hunger settling in, causing her to feel the slightest bit weak and shaky.

He needs me. If I'm passed out and fucking unconscious I can't be here for him. He needs to eat - I need to eat. I have to find food - soon - somehow.

She bit her lip and internally pondered her options.

I've gotta find us food - I have to. There has to be something around here. But I can't leave him! No... we both need to fucking eat. Now! Go. Do it Ellie. Get up. Get up. Get up! Find something! GO!

In a flash, she shot to her feet and zipped up her pack then quickly threw it over her shoulder, causing him to immediately jerk in her direction with concern.

"El-Ellie - "

"Shh, shh - it's gonna be fine," she said, kneeling back down and resting a hand on the cloth that remained draped across his forehead.

Its previous cold state was no more and instead felt just as hot as the perspiring skin that sat beneath it.

"I have to find us food and water - we're just fucking sitting ducks here if I pass out and you're nearly dying like this. I'll try not to be long - I promise. I will find something, I swear," she said, displaying another shimmer of austere confidence.

Her reassurance caused him to smile ever so slightly, but his insides also churned at the thought of her venturing out by herself. They'd been tied at the hip for so long, the concept of the other being further than a few feet away was daunting. He hated even thinking about her wandering off without him and away from his protection. The thought only made him even sicker and his mind feared the worst.

But she was right, they needed food and water, desperately, and he was in no shape to stop her. She loved him too much.

She leaned down and softly kissed his hairline.

"I'll come back. You know I will," she whispered.

He reached a quivering hand up to her cheek and affectionately rubbed the scar above her eye.

"P-please be c-care - "

"Shh - I will. I know - I promise," she soothed, hoping to ease the nagging worry that she knew always plagued him.

"I l-love you b-baby," he said as he looked into her eyes, letting his palm linger on her cheek.

The warm, soft touch of her skin somehow managed to keep his hand from shaking.

I won't let you down. I've got this.

"I love you too," she softly responded with a sniffle.

She rose to her feet and took a deep breath as she prepared herself to leave his side. The thought of venturing further into the eerie, creepily, quiet town alone sent a tingle of fear down her spine. But she had to be strong. He needed her desperately.

They needed her desperately.

She turned around, grabbed the hunting rifle then threw aside the chairs which she placed to block the entrance. After quickly darting through the door, she quietly shut it behind her and took another, angst-ridden, deep breath as she scanned her surroundings.

She wasn't going to fail him. She wasn't going to lose her purpose.

"C'mon - c'mon - c'mon!" she said to herself while sifting through drawer after drawer in a frenzy.

After sneaking across the street towards the collection of abandoned shops, restaurants and bars that lined the main drag through town, she simply started at one end and worked her way down. She jumped on every opportunity to use an alleyway or hop through a window, fearful of waltzing outside onto the uncovered and wide open sidewalk or road. It wasn't until her third stop in which she found anything that even whispered a hint of hope. It was an old, derelict, fifties style diner, filled with bright colors and strange artwork that puzzled her to no end, but now wasn't the time for her usual and childlike, curious contemplation.

The entire place was filthy. Shards of glass, newspapers, old bar stools and stains of dried blood decorated the scene around her. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust with trails dug into it from the empty drawers she angrily tossed aside after coming up empty handed time and time again.

Fuck! There has to be something in here! Come the fuck on!

She wiped the sweat from her brow and darted to the other side of the kitchen, spotting a pair of cabinets and another set of drawers. As she passed by a rusted and damaged stove top, a detestable, black sludge that stuck to its surface caught her eye.

God that smells foul - real fucking funny that used to be food at one point - sure as hell isn't anymore.

She felt taunted and tormented, like some higher power was toying with her. The sight only reminded her that food was bountiful long, long ago and the thought of it going to waste caused her to grit her teeth in frustration. Convinced that food at one point filled the diner in abundance, yet knowing that she continued to come up empty caused her to angrily threw the broken spatula that lay on the stove stop nearby. Each of her findings only consisted of the molded and rotten remnants of whatever used to be there, nothing more. Fate was cruel and she let out a groan.

"Goddammit fuck you," she spat under her breath, though she wasn't sure who the pointed words were directed towards.

She continued to the other side of the kitchen then swung open the pair of cabinets only to find nothing once again.

Goddammit!

Again, the nagging feeling of hopelessness and despair scratched at her mind, hissing in her ear and imploring her to give up.

But she couldn't give up. Joel, her protector and purpose needed her to come through. She had to find something.

Before pulling open the final drawer in the kitchen, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, praying that even the smallest gift of good fortune awaited them inside.

She yanked it open with a wrathful force, so harsh the drawer nearly snapped free from the metal tracks which kept it in place.

Nothing.

"Auuuugggh! Fuck! Give me something! Please!" she shouted in frustration.

She plopped down on the floor, resting against the end of a nearby table and brought a hand to her brow. Panted breaths rapidly shot from her contracting and expanding small chest, a product of her frantic and fearful state. She dropped both hands to the floor, tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling as she blew a raspberry.

Our luck can't run out now - not yet. C'mon Ellie - catch your breath then get back to it. He fucking needs you. We need you!

She closed her eyes, trying to relax and calm her breathing. Images and memories of her and Joel danced through her mind. As always, they provided a sliver of warmth and heightened sense of motivation. Motivation to keep her purpose alive and to continue fighting. No matter how hopeless or dire the situation at hand felt, she wouldn't dare give up. Especially if the repercussions of admitting defeat meant he would perish or suffer from a malady of any kind.

"I'm not losing you - I'm not losing you. Hang in there Joel. Please... for us," she whispered to herself.

She rose to her feet, feeling the familiar weight of the shoulder strap from the hunting rifle tug on her shoulder. However, upon standing up, little, black dots clouded her vision and her head began to spin. She felt dizzy, lightheaded and could barely keep herself balanced upright as she stumbled to the side, collapsing a forearm onto the table next to her. The stipulations of her condition were tapping at the door. The cynical part of her, or the Joelish part of her, she didn't know at this point, snickered at the turn of events, as if she needed additional cruel taunts from reality. A clammy, cold sweat began to percolate on her skin and her hands started to lightly shake. Sure signs that her body was quickly running out of fuel.

Oh shit - fuck - oh no... this again... I - I have to find food. C'mon Ellie, just take a deep breath and relax. It'll go away in a few seconds - you got this.

She clenched her eyes shut and took a series of massive and exaggerated deep breaths, urging her body, which was on the verge of betraying her at any moment, to squash the side effects of her gift.

It was always a gift. It was responsible for bringing the two of them together and no matter how much collateral damage was left in its wake, she never cursed it.

Okay - time's wasting - c'mon, get a move on, go, go, go!

She bolted out of the kitchen and noticed a broken window opposite of where she entered, leading into an adjacent alleyway. After carefully climbing through the window, shards of broken glass crunched beneath her feet upon landing on the concrete below it. She cringed and paused, praying nothing in the area was now aware of her presence. Every sound emitted from her small self, even the soft parting of the air molecules around her lips from her breath, seemed too loud.

No more than ten feet away stood the next building and she approached it with confidence, constantly telling herself the next stop held their salvation inside. She knew she would strike gold and find what they needed so desperately.

A busted, wooden door that led into her next checkpoint, remained slightly ajar and she tiptoed through it as quietly as she could. Within seconds, she was engulfed by darkness, only the sliver of light peaking through the doorway behind her left a small, shard of light on the floor. The pitch-black room in the rear of the establishment had a different scent than the diner which she scoured minutes ago.

It was strange, each structure she ventured into had its own, unique scent, which seemed unusual. The fact that the smell of death didn't permeate through all of them was a pleasant surprise, but it only heightened her sense of paranoia. A lack of bodies and Infected meant someone or something already swept through the area.

God this whole place is fucking creepy - can't wait to get the hell out of here.

She turned on her flashlight and anxiously scanned every inch of the room. Feeling more and more uneasy by the second, she drew her pistol and gulped. Her hands continued to shake like a leaf in the wind and her energy level was quickly draining. Another wave of blotted vision clouded her sight and for a brief second, she closed her eyes as she prayed for it to pass. Time was running out.

It were as if fate, reality, god, the devil or everything that stood in her path, were quietly laughing, schadenfreude and all, as they found enjoyment in her misery. She hated everything in this moment, everything except for her purpose of course.

"Don't fuck with me motherfuckers," she spat under her breath.

To her right was a narrow doorway that led to the front and main area of the establishment. Rows of shelves that used to be stocked full, which now stood barren and empty, lined the whole floor. She shined the faint glow of her flashlight through the doorway, passing over a sign that hung above the main entrance.

General Store. Fuck yes! Okay! Here we go - c'mon! There's gotta be something here!

Then, something caught her attention. Far to the left sat a large, mahogany bookcase against the furthest and most rear wall of the dark room. It had been picked clean of every item that once called its shelves home, but something very strange caught her eye. Breaking the continuous membrane of dust that suffocated the rich, high-quality wood was a defined set of finger prints on the edge. Moreover, the entire object appeared to be shifted, even if just slightly, a few inches from the wall.

What the - is there something -

Suddenly, a series of loud, barking voices from outside snapped her out of her curious state, thus immediately ending the exploration of the intriguing room.

"In here right!? They stumbled into one of these yeah!?" she faintly heard from the bellowing voices.

NO! JOEL!

She let out a nervous peep and darted to the front of the store. She knelt behind a shelf, peered around the corner and out the window, praying her eyes would come up empty, though she knew it wouldn't be the case. And in an instant, her heart shattered to pieces and a massive lump filled every inch of her throat.

The door to the laundromat was wide open and she watched three men walk through it. Panic filled her every nerve and she gulped again, feeling her heartbeat suddenly pound away faster and faster. Her hands started to shake even more and the adrenaline that was filling her bloodstream only caused her ravenous stomach to scream for food even louder.

Her eyes danced in their sockets as she darted them across every inch of the environment outside which spanned before her. Along with the three that went into the laundromat, two more men stood against the wall outside, standing guard.

Hunters. Fuck! I knew it! Shit, no, no, no! Joel! Oh no! Please no!

She sat there on her heels, frozen in place and unable to move. Every fiber of her being urged her to bust through the front door of the store and unleash a flurry of rifle rounds at the hunters. But she knew she couldn't. She didn't have enough firepower and was getting weaker and more exhausted by the second.

Then, her stomach churned and a she became queasy from the next sight. In agony she watched the three men who entered the laundromat drag Joel along the ground, forcing him to rise to his feet. He tried to stand, then stumbled to his knees as he let loose another spray of vomit. Causing the five hunters to howl in a combination of tormenting laughs and grunts in disgust. They were getting a sick satisfaction out of punishing him in his helpless state. Seeing them treat her purpose in such a cruel way caused her to fume with rage.

She could feel the pain and dread he was experiencing in that moment and her lips trembled as a small quake of emotional anguish shot through her. However, he was alive. They didn't kill him on sight. And she knew why.

Wait - that asshole said they. Those fuckers know there's two of us. They'll keep him alive until they find me... for awhile at least.

"Please don't hurt him, please, please, please. Hang in there Joel - I swear I'm gonna find you," she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes.

Just when she thought her little heart couldn't stand witnessing more torture to the man who'd become her father, she heard a cry of pain. It was his voice, she knew it. Hearing the sound sent another shock of heartache through her and she snapped open her eyes. A hunter started kicking him in the ribs, over and over again. Observing the sight incited a terrified and tear-jerking yelp from her as she twitched forward, yearning to run to his side and save him.

"No! Stop! You motherfuckers stop! Fucking stop! Please!" she quietly shouted to herself as tears of empathy filled her eyes.

In heartbreak she sat there, watching the hunters carry what mattered most, off in the distance and down the road. A tear from each eye ran down her cheeks and she let out an intense whimper coupled with a sniffle.

It didn't take long, and her mind began to race about as it constructed the worst and most pessimistic of scenarios. But she had to keep fighting, no matter what. She refused to succumb to the suffocating thoughts. She dissected every possible solution and idea that surfaced when it came to finding him. She had to find him and dismissed the lingering fear that hissed with a forked tongue in the back of her mind, taunting her with the fact that she may never, ever, see him again.

She closed her eyes and tried to collect herself, realizing that finding food remained priority number one. She still had to eat and If she were to pass out on the floor of the convenience store, she wouldn't find him.

Then, suddenly, the gentle touch of hand upon her shoulder jolted her back to the present, sending a frightened sense of surprise through every nerve. Her muscles tensed and her pupils widened to their maximum size.

"Shouldn't let your guard down like that," a soft voice spoke behind her.

This time, much to her dismay, she wasn't alone.

AN: Sorry for the cliffhanger but I felt this was a good stopping point. Trying to force the rest of the content that will take place in Twin Falls in this chapter would cause it to be a massive, gargantuan one. I hope you'll forgive me! So, where has Joel been carried off too? Who's creeping up on Ellie?

By the way, just a side note, I went back and tried to polish up some of the earlier chapters... wanted to make them as good as I can, though I know nothing will ever be perfect.

Also, did anyone else have the issue I was seeing with the site on Tuesday? When I clicked on the 'The Last of Us' section, it returned with no stories whatsoever, saying nothing matched my filter. And even after I "adjusted" or "reapplied" the filter, I still got nothing. Weird... wonder if it was just me or others experienced the same thing. Anyway, hope it got resolved.