Author's Note: Thank you for reading this far. I feel good about how this one turned out. I'm still writing. If you're enjoying and want to help out this review-starved boi, I'd appreciate it greatly. I'm not sure what's normal, this is my first time posting on this site. Got a little over a thousand views, but only three reviews. Don't know if the story is good as is, or not good enough to review, or what.
One thing I will say is that at this point, we're getting close to some of the scenes that I've really looked forward to writing. I've already written a couple of them just now.
Anyway, enjoy.
Ellie was right, Clint had made a mess. The infected really came out of the woodwork when he had caused those explosions. She even saw a bloater in broad daylight, something she had never seen before. That plank had been handy, but most of the roofs weren't close enough together to use it. They ended up going down to street level and sneaking from building to building. The infected were dense on some streets, but it was nothing a thrown bottle or two couldn't clear up.
Eventually they got out of that nicer residential district, and back to the commercial plots and suburbs. They moved along largely in silence.
Ellie looked back every now and then, to see if Clint was eyeballing her or anything. He never was. He kept looking back at her, confused why she was watching him. It was amusing.
She still wasn't totally at ease. Why should she be? It's weird. But Clint had been right…
She sighs, resisting the urge to curse herself. It's true, she had given into the instinct to abandon him, and that had been pretty fucked up. They were friends. She had liked it when they were soldiers. It was easier that way. Clean. It had helped in Grand Junction, she felt like. But that went to shit anyway, didn't it?
Clint is her friend, and she's grateful for it. Travelling alone had been bleak at times. Especially in Santa Barbara. This feels different.
"Hold up," she says.
They had come up on a gas station. The building had been wrecked, and it was partially destroyed. They were able to walk up the slope of the collapsed roof to a high point for a vantage.
They're running out of covered terrain. A huge freeway cut in on their left side, blocking them to the east and south unless they want to cross it, which she doesn't. To the right, the airport comes in and meets the freeway. The airport offers way too much open space. There is quite a bit of tall grass between the runways, though.
"What do you think?" she asks him.
He sniffs. "Still testing me, after all this time?"
She frowns.
"Cause I feel like you already made up your mind," says Clint.
"I can listen too, asshole. I'm asking."
"Well—" he stops. He puts a finger to his lips and points.
She looks, and maybe a couple hundred feet away, she sees two Rattlers. They get low.
The Rattlers are unaware of them. They're talking as they walk. They're headed toward the freeway. They pass behind a building, out of sight.
"God damn it…" says Clint.
"You said it." Ellie turns to him. "I think we should cut through the airport. The UC is on the other side. I bet we can find a boat."
"The UC?"
"University of California, Santa Barbara."
"Ah… The airport? That's a lot of open space…"
"I know, but there's overgrowth. What else do we do?"
"Honestly?" says Clint. His cheek pinches. "Turn around?"
"In hindsight, there might be a better way through. But I think that's more dangerous."
"How so?"
Ellie gestures toward where they had seen the rattlers.
Clint's cheek pinches again and he nods. "I'm gonna get a cramp from all the crouching."
"Oh, boo hoo."
They climb back down and make their way forward, favoring the direction the Rattlers had come from. They come up on a small, empty road with a chain link fence to the airport on the other side. There's a man-sized hole in it. After looking up and down the road very carefully, they cross and they're in.
Clint was right, there's a lot of overgrowth, but they have to crouch to say effectively hidden. The airfield is huge and it takes a while, it's tiring. Ellie keeps looking up at the air control tower, and she sees Clint doing it, too. But they never see movement.
She crouches behind another bramble and wipes her forehead. The breeze is low right now and the California sun gets hot. It's full Spring by this point.
"Need some water?" Clint asks.
"Oh, stop," she says.
He makes a face that says suit yourself, and takes a swig.
They get to the edge of the airfield and there's some scrubby land. It's quiet, and they cross without trouble. They push through some shrubby bushes, and find themselves in front of a wider road, with the UC on the other side.
Ellie can see several large buildings already, and she knows the campus is pretty big. She doesn't have a campus map, but there have to be boats somewhere down on the shore side. It's pretty damn overgrown. It's a mix of palms, oaks, sycamores, some tall grass and bushes. The roadways are like wide paths through a small forest.
"Well, let's hustle," she says.
They duck through the chain link and jog across the road. No sound of infected, yet. It's ominously quiet. They enter the tall grass across the sidewalk. It used to be a wide lawn, looks like. They're climbing up the slope toward a six story gray building when they see a flash of color. A bright red bird with blue and yellow plumage on its wings lands on the branch of a sycamore.
"Whoa!" says Ellie without thinking.
"Is that a parrot?" says Clint. "Are those common in California?"
"I don't think so. I bet they got out of the zoos after the outbreak."
"It looks crazy."
"I know. I almost want to draw it. They're tropical—"
"Ellie?" says Clint.
Then Ellie hears it too, too late. A loud, gas engine is closing in on them fast. They turn, and a jeep is barreling up the road they just crossed. Ellie makes eye contact with a woman standing in the open back. The woman's eyes go wide.
"Shit!" says Ellie. They drop as one under the grass. Clint starts moving and she follows him.
The jeep screeches to a stop.
"What?" says a man loudly, annoyed.
"I just fucking—Roy, get out of the fucking jeep. I just saw two of 'em."
They're close to the building, there's a low rail and a glass panel door that Ellie can see. Clint gets to the railing, and peers over it into the door. She's about to jump it but he holds out his hand for her to stop. They meet eyes and he shakes his head.
Too many infected.
"Tourists?" asks Roy.
"Yeah, that's not the point. Roy, I saw her."
Ellie's heart sinks.
"Who?"
They start moving around toward the main lane, still in the grass.
"The blonde bitch?" It's Roy again.
"No, Roy!" The woman's voice is urgent. "The other one. The little one. The one from Casa Roja. That set all the prisoners free and killed like eight guys herself."
"Bull fucking shit."
"Roy, I looked her in the eye."
There's a short silence. "Oh shit…"
"Yeah. Jesús, get Grays on the radio."
Roy starts laughing, long and low. "We're gonna have to scare this bitch up. Jameson's gonna flay her!"
Clint gives Ellie a couple worried looks. She shakes her head. She gestures around the building toward the path into the UC.
"We're gettin' a raise after this, kiddos!"
Ellie and Clint are pushing through bushes and around trees. It's slow going, they need more speed. They get to one of the main lanes, all uneven bricks, grass pushing through. Ellie cuts into it.
"Run!" she says.
They sprint down the lane, footsteps pretty loud. There are over grown planter boxes. Ahead of them they can see a quad. No infected yet. The pull up in the quad. There are large buildings in every direction. There are some broken windows, but it's not as war torn as parts of the city they've seen. There's a big red brick building with letters on the side reading 'Office of Admissions.' A several-story white building across the way has 'they never cared' spray painted on the side.
"There!" someone shouts.
Ellie and Clint turn to see the woman aiming an automatic rifle at them from the other end of the lane. She starts ripping off shots and they both go for cover. They end up on opposite sides of the lane. They look at each other.
"Two of 'em! They're armed! Obviously…"
Clint's got this look on this face. At least two of the Rattlers have a line on them down the lane. They can't cross it safely. This could separate them. Clint gets that look where his nose wrinkles and he sets his jaw.
Not gonna happen.
He pulls out his rifle, shoulders and levels, lets out his breath and steps smoothly out into the vantage. He pulls off a shot in less than a second, yanks the bolt, then pulls another.
"Shit!" says the woman.
They must take cover because Clint breaks aim and crosses to her. She can sense his relief.
"He grazed me at that range!" shouts the woman. "Be careful!"
"Should we just kill them?" asks Clint.
Ellie shakes her head. "More are coming. We need to get out. Now. The infected will have to be cover for us."
"Should we…" Clint trails off.
She's confused for a second then it clicks. She scoffs. "You know what?" She looks around. "Maybe."
She lopes to the nearest path out of the quad. Maybe thirty yards away, there's a parking lot. Several infected are stumbling around. Ellie points with her head and they enter the foliage on the other side of the lane. They creep a ways, then Ellie stops. Clint looks confused. Ellie puts a finger to her lips. She pulls out her bow and one of her uglies, as she likes to think of them.
Their three pursuers are entering the courtyard now. They're stepping carefully, guns raised, looking around. They know what counter-ambushes feel like. They're careful, but not careful enough. Ellie nocks the ugly and stands up.
"Sorry about the raise, asshole," she says under her breath, and she lets the explosive arrow fly.
"There!" says the older man, Roy, but it's too late. The arrow lands almost at his feet. There's a boom, then a shower of red as the shrapnel rips him apart.
"Damn!"
"Oh fuck!"
The others stumble backward, then retreat into the bushes. The infected are already screaming. Ellie can hear their feet on the pathway. She turns to Clint. He's got this ridiculous look on his face, between shocked and impressed.
"Move," says Ellie.
They continue through the bright green foliage. Ellie lifts a low frondy palm branch out of her way. She can see more pavement. There are grunts and shouts in front of them. More runners pass by, going the way they came. She waits a bit longer. There are clicks, and two clickers shamble past, after them.
"They're gonna have their hands full," says Clint.
"So will we, if backup gets here," Ellie replies.
They look around. There's a huge building in front of them. A sign on the side reads 'UCSB Library.' To the left is where those infected had come from, and she can see more in the distance. To the right is a wide open space. It probably used to be a lawn. Now it's mostly mid length grass, with a few small trees. There are a lot of infected roaming around it. A lot. They didn't hone in on the explosion, but many of them look agitated, more aware.
The clouds above are darkening, roiling. A storm system looks like it's moving in. Ellie hears a distant peel of thunder. She turns to Clint, who's looking at his compass. She doesn't really need hers, but he seems to be thinking the same thing.
"Which way to the ocean?" she asks.
He points toward the large building. "Cut through?" he asks.
"Yep," she replies.
They hurry over the cracked concrete and up the steps to the massive building. It's two tall buildings, connected by a lower, central one. The one they're about to enter has dark, floor-to-ceiling glass windows almost to the very top.
Ellie can see the glass double doors are barred, but a huge glass pane next to them is shattered. It's pretty dim inside, but they can see. She hops over a desk inside the window and they're in.
They're in an entry way. There's a long desk along the opposite wall. To their left and right, the floor opens up into huge rooms filled with rows of dark book stacks. Runners can be heard in the distance, as well as clicks. They crouch automatically. She looks at Clint. Sometimes, they don't even have to say anything. They look at each other and the message comes through.
We do this quiet.
He nods.
They creep around the end of the long desk. They follow a wall to the back of the building. There's an emergency door, but it's heavily blocked by bookcases. There are windows all along the back of the building, but they're almost totally overgrown outside. Light just gets in over the tops of the leaves. They hear a runner approaching them. They both take standing cover at the ends of the rows of shelving. Eventually, it stumbles out between them. It looks at Ellie in surprise. Clint's arms reach around it, and he cuts its throat.
Ellie makes a sound in her throat. She's done it a thousand times, but having a front row seat is particularly disgusting.
Clint looks around the shelf, deeper into the building. There's not much light. And a lot more infected. He pinches his cheek.
Yeah, I don't like it either.
She leads him back to the main lobby and they cross to the stacks on the other side. They can't see any infected yet. They take a similar path and creep toward the back of the building. The emergency exit is similarly blocked, but the window next to it is less overgrown. They could get through, but of course to do that—
Her hackles raise. She turns to Clint, he stops, turns and freezes, because behind him, as close as Ellie is, is a stalker. Its long fingers, reaching for Clint, are now still as a statue.
They spook easily, so with a very slow, casual motion, Clint draws his pistol and shoots it in the face.
"Move," says Ellie, "move now!"
The infected are already crying out. They run to the bright window. Damn it, the glass is thick. She's not sure what to—
Clint steps in front of her with this shotgun and blasts it. Between the shotgun blast and the din of the shattering glass, every infected on the floor will be on them. Clint doesn't wait but jumps on the metal pane housing and through the window. Ellie is right behind him.
They break into a sprint. Ellie can hear the infected dumping out of the window behind them.
They run up a walk. There's a fence and a construction site on their right, and more overgrowth to their left. A runner somewhere in the overgrowth perks up, and growls as it joins the pursuit. She can hear some over the fence as well.
They come up on an intersection. "Right!" Ellie calls out.
There are a few more tall buildings in front of them. There's a small gap between them, with a chain link fence. "There!" she calls out.
The runners are a ways behind them, but there are a lot. When they get to it, Clint immediately moves to boost her. She steps in his hands, and he gives her enough force to clear the fence entirely. She lands on her feet and watches as Clint clambers over.
The first runners are approaching. Sometimes they will climb chain link, especially if they just watched their prey do it. When the first two get there, grabbing at the links, Ellie and Clint each off one. They drop and the others close in. They grab at the fence but don't try to climb, since they can see what they want right in front of them. The fence bows a bit.
"Move," she says, but Clint is already moving. They're in a small courtyard with a couple dumpsters and a small central bed with some ferns and bushes. There's a rusted metal door in a small wall connecting two buildings. Ellie grabs the handle and it opens from this side. There's a long alley, she walks into it. Clint shuts the door behind them, and they start briskly walking down the alley.
"There's no reason to boost for a chain link fence," Ellie says.
Clint is taken aback. "I figured it would be faster."
"Not for you," says Ellie, "and you know the drill. If we ever do need a boost in a hurry, you go first since you can pull me up faster."
"Shit, really, Ellie? Now?"
"Always." They can hear the runners behind them, but it's relatively quiet here. She stops, turning him toward her. "If this is going to work, you have to follow the rules."
He turns away for a second. He's really annoyed. He takes a breath, and meets her eyes. "Right."
"It's not because I'm bossy," Ellie continues. She sniffs, and rubs her nose. "It's because I've watched too many people die for no good reason." His features soften. "And you already promised me. That's not gonna happen to you."
He's nodding subtly. The air has taken on a chill from the cool gray light above and the ocean breeze. "That's not gonna happen to me."
She nods, and with that, they keep moving.
When they get out of the alley, they can see the ocean, but it's not good. There's a twelve or fifteen foot wall constructed blocking the way to the beach. It's not FEDRA, but it's solid. Vertical steel bars. Climbable, maybe, but not easy. It runs all along the road in front of the beach.
"Damn it," she says.
"No, it's good," says Clint, "we wheel a dumpster over and—"
At the same time they hear the sound of a vehicle coming their way. They look to the left, and a jeep is coming up the beach road from the North. It corrects its course. They've spotted them.
Ellie curses and they fall back into the alley. They look around for cover, there's little. Clint crouches behind a metal trash can.
"Ellie!" he beckons, but she has an idea. She crouches at the entrance to the alley, on the side the jeep is coming from.
They tires screech across the concrete, immediately in front of the alley, blocking it. The jeep's engine rumbles. She's right next to it, too close for them to see. She smells the toxic, sweet smell of exhaust.
"Where are they!" someone shouts.
"There, behind the trash can!"
Ellie sees a barrel poke out from the window. They start firing.
She rolls under the carriage of the jeep. She crawls into a crouch near the back. She stands up and her heart almost stops when someone drops right in front of her. But she's facing the other way. She tries to step forward, but Ellie grabs her and opens her throat. She lets her down.
She walks up to the driver window. A man in the passenger seat is blasting away at the can. His powerful rifle is actually tearing it up, it won't last. Ellie pulls out her nine mil and shoots him in the back of the head. The driver is shocked. The woman turns and sees Ellie. She grabs Ellie's gun hand, which was almost in her face.
They're locked, both hands struggling. Ellie is trying to point it at her face. The woman tries to go for her gun, but has to grab Ellie's arm again to stop her. Then she opens her mouth and bites Ellie's wrist, hard. Ellie cries out. She knees the side of the jeep, but she can't do anything. Then she sees Clint.
She lets out a surprised sound, then swivels out of the way so Clint can put a round in the woman's head. She slumps down in her seat.
"Jesus," says Ellie. She's pretty shaken. From muscle memory, she methodically splashes alcohol on the bite on her arm, wincing at the sting. That's going to leave another scar. She wraps it.
She opens the door and hauls out the woman's body. Clint is doing the same with the other guy. Ellie climbs into the driver's seat, then does a double take at Clint. There's blood on his chest, on the left side. She sees Tommy's face.
"Clint?" she says. She sounds scared.
"That can was shit cover," he says. He reaches down. Grimacing, and making a few unhappy sounds, he works at it with his fingers and pulls out a bloody bullet. She breathes a sigh of relief. It hadn't gotten past the muscle of his chest. The garbage can probably ate its momentum.
He treats and wraps his own wound. She offers to help but he refuses it. Ellie's hands are shaking. She grips the steering wheel firmly. That was too close.
They can hear more vehicles, but they aren't close. And more than a few gunshots.
"Where do we go?" asks Clint.
Ellie eyeballs the fence.
"No," says Clint. "We could just get hurt trying to drive through that thing."
"Then we pull up next to it and climb over."
"Smart." He puts his seatbelt on.
Ellie chuckles. He gives her a look. "Seriously?" she says.
"Yes, seriously!" He's kinda mad. "We don't know what's about to happen. Put your seatbelt on!"
She cocks her head. He's got a point. She pulls hers on.
Ellie puts it in gear and starts it rolling. They barely reach the road when they hear another vehicle. Off to the North, a truck is barreling down on them.
"God damn it!" says Clint, drawing his gun.
Ellie presses the throttle and she turns South. There are some gunshots, and a couple of them clang off the jeep. Clint leans out of the window and starts shooting backward.
Palm trees fly by on their left as she rips down the road. The ocean breeze is strong and salty. The Pacific is a deep blue immensity under the darkening gray sky. She sees a lightning bolt miles away over the water. Rain drops start landing on the windshield. The wipers don't work.
There are a couple abandoned vehicles on the road, but they're easy to avoid. Until another jeep comes toward them from the right at an upcoming intersection. It's going fairly easy for a second, but then they step on the gas and try to head Ellie and Clint off.
"Damn it!" she growls. She swivels the wheels a bit, and ends up slamming into the other jeep's side by the back wheels, sending it into a tail spin. There's a shock, and the belt squeezes the air out of her lungs. Clint had been right. She steps on it again, but the truck following them overtakes them. It tries to run them off the road, but she brakes and moves behind them. She presses the throttle all the way down and is able to get even with them.
Clint leans forward and aims his gun out Ellie's window. He fires off a couple magnum rounds, leaving Ellie's ears ringing. The truck slows down deliberately.
They're tearing through a narrow parking lot now, between two long lines of abandoned cars. There are two buildings between them and the water. They're running out of land. This is a small peninsula. There's a body of greenish water to their right, above the ocean.
She cannot stop so she doesn't let up the gas. There's a gap between two buildings she aims for.
"Shit, Ellie-e!"
They slam into the plaster and with a deafening, grinding crash break into a small courtyard. There's red cobbles beneath them and strewn plastic picnic tables about. She doesn't let up on the gas. There's another gap. She aims for it. Clint grips the handle above his window.
They slam into the plaster and grind into the gap, but it's too long. They lose their momentum, and the tires are peeling out on the ground. Their windows are completely obstructed by the buildings on both sides. Ellie curses.
"With me, Ellie!" Clint scoots forward, planting his boots against the windshield. "Full strength!"
She lifts herself with the steering wheel and plants her feet against the windshield, back to the seat. Full strength.
They start pushing with all their might. They grunt with the strain. They could start getting bullets in the back any second. At first, nothing happens. Then there's a pop on Clint's side. Then several more, and the upper mounting of the windshield gives way with a loud snap and it flops onto the hood.
Infected have started screaming. Ellie can hear them in the courtyard behind them. There's the rumble of a bloater. They clamber over the windshield and they're in another open space. There's a planter box, benches. And the wall. It continues all the way around the peninsula, and wraps around even past the lagoon.
There's a structure at the end of the concrete. Something to do with water. A cistern, or sewer or something. "Come on!" Ellie shouts. The rain is coming down now, really coming down. Their feet slap the wet pavement. They're soaked by the time they get there. It's a wide, metal and concrete square, raised a few feet off the ground. Ellie climbs on top. There's a circular, heavy grate, and darkness below it. Ellie can hear water down there. She sees a glint of light in a tunnel, or wide pipe.
There's a broken, rusted padlock next to the grate clasp. They both grab the metal lattice and pull the thing open. Now it's a round, black hole with the sounds of water coming up.
"Don't fuckin' like it," says Clint.
There's the roar of an engine, and the truck comes tearing up the grass embankment between the building and the lagoon behind them.
"This or death!" says Ellie.
She jumps in and lands in icy, foul smelling water. She stands up and spits it out. Clint lands right next to her, splashing her. It's about three feet deep.
They click on their lights. The glow she had seen is daylight coming through a pipe leading out to the ocean. It's unobstructed, maybe seven feet wide and thirty feet long. Water splashes along the bottom, running off from what they're standing in.
"Bingo!" says someone. They look up to see a man at the entrance they had come in. They back into corners, water splashing. He doesn't have a good angle on them. "Ah…" he continues, "what do they say? Fish in a barrel?"
He's fiddling with something in his hands. Ellie looks at Clint. He looks like she feels, at a loss. He looks at the drainage pipe. Then something splashes down into the water below the hole. It's blinking.
Without hesitation, Ellie splashes over to it, grabs it, and hucks it back out of the hole. The guy on top ducks back ward in surprise. He turns around. "Shit she…" Then his voice gets ten times louder. "Jake! It landed in the—"
Then there is a bone-shaking explosion.
Ellie is knocked backwards and submerged in the water. Her head hits something hard. Everything is dark. She can feel the shockwaves of heavy things landing in the water. One hits her calf, cutting it. She finds the ground, slimy stone, and pulls herself to the surface. Drool and water are dripping from her lips. She can't see. Her flashlight broke.
"Clint?" she calls.
Then she can hear him pull himself out of the water, coughing and sucking in air. He spits, looking around. His light is on. He finds Ellie. "Good god…" he says.
There's a loud sound of running water. They look up. The opening up top is about four times the size now. The concrete walls of the chamber are cracked, huge chunks missing. Under Clint's beam they can see a part of the wall where dozens of cracks are allowing rivulets of greenish water to pour through. A piece falls out and the flow increases.
"Ellie, we need to—"
At the same time, they hear the slosh of water. Clint turns and his beam illuminates a shambler, maybe six feet from him.
"Holy shit!"
It charges him, and he ends up grabbing both of its hands. It's huge, and pushes him back, slamming him against the wall.
Ellie's magnum is in her hand, she's blasting the disgusting, pustule ridden monster. Someone is screaming, and she realizes it's her.
"Get the fuck off him! Get the fuck off him! Get the fuck off him!"
Her magnum starts clicking and she drops it straight into the water, pulling out her nine mil. She keeps ripping off shots. When her clip is empty it finally lets out a groan, one of its legs getting weak. Clint starts pushing it back.
Then there's a deep, thunderous rumbling sound, and the upper wall gives way to a torrent of water. Ellie only has time to shout before the wave slams into her and she loses her feet.
The world is a dark swirl of green water, black stone walls, and distant gray light above them. At one point she sees Clint still struggling with the shambler. She feels a powerful current, and she's pulled under.
She gets glimpses from Clint's flashlight, but otherwise it's chaos. They're in the pipe, she can tell. The shambler is still on Clint. At one point her face gets forced up against its disgusting pustules. One bursts, and it stings her cheek, but then the water whisks the acid away.
There's a drop, then a moment of gasping air, then an impact as she plunges into open water. The current pushes her, then slows. She reaches down and feels sand. She pushes off of it, kicks her legs, and breaks the surface, standing.
The first thing she sees are the high, iron walls on the higher ground of the peninsula, above them. She looks around, and everything is blue. They're a few yards into the ocean. A wave hits her back, causing her to stumble. Desperate, she turns around, and sees Clint standing a few feet away. He's lost his glasses. He's got a bunch of bright red cuts on his skin.
Before she can say anything, the shambler climbs up from the sea in front of them. This one's eyes still show in its face, white and lifeless. Sea water pours from its open mouth. Blood and green ooze run from its many wounds. It rears up and roars into the air.
Clint's axe splits its face from its cheek, across its mouth to its chin, abruptly ending its scream. Clint pulls it out, and the monster rocks, stunned. The next one splits its forehead, and it collapses.
Rain pounds their backs as they stand there, panting. Waves try to push them over. They look at each other, too shocked to speak. With shaking hands it takes him a few tries, but Clint sheathes his axe.
"Clint…" says Ellie. He looks at her, confused. She sloshes over to him. She raises her hands, but doesn't touch him. He looks down.
His arms, chest, shoulders. There are scrapes and cuts all over them. Some of them run with blood. It's impossible to say what made them. Clint looks at the shambler.
"Get in the water," says Ellie. She grabs his shoulders and pushes him away from the shambler.
"Ellie," he says. He stumbles. "Ellie, what are you—"
She shoves him and he goes under. She pushes at him. Willing the water to cleanse his wounds. Willing the universe for one fucking instance of pity.
He fights her. He climbs out of the water for a second, sucking in air. She pushes him back down.
She keeps seeing Abby. Struggling against her. Sea water cleansing the blood and dirt, revealing her sunken face. It tastes the same as it did then.
He finally gets to his feet, sputtering. He shoves her off him. "Ellie, what the fuck!" He's angry and confused.
"Maybe you didn't get it," she says. She doesn't like how her voice sounds. "Maybe it washed away."
He stands panting with wide eyes. He looks at the shambler again. He wipes his nose with his arm. "Shit," he says. "Shit, maybe. Doesn't matter, let's go."
He starts making his way to the shore, as if somehow it could really not matter. She follows him. They clamber onto the beach. Clint pulls out some alcohol and starts splashing himself.
"Give me that," says Ellie. She finishes what he started, getting some cuts on his back he couldn't see. After, he does the same for her. But other than the cut on her calf and a small slice on her arm, it's just bruises. Ellie looks around.
Visibility is bad. It's getting dark and the rain is dense. But there's something down the shoreline. A structure. As they approach, they see it's a small dock. There's a motor boat.
There's a shack on the shore side. It has the rattler emblem painted on it. They look inside. There's not much, but there's gas cans. They take all of them. They stumble clumsily into the boat. They're shell-shocked and exhausted. Ellie tries the engine and it works on the first try.
She looks at Clint. "Compass."
He's confused for a second, then he nods. She drives them out over the water.
"Which way?" she asks.
Clint looks over his shoulder. He looks like he barely knows where he is. He reads the compass, then he points, meeting her eyes.
And so they go.