Author's note: There will be more Ellie perspective, don't worry. This section just felt like Clint, though. Enjoy.

Ellie is really starting to worry Clint. After they got back she just left him there, with Maria. He was fucking helpless, but other adults started to get the picture and tend to Maria. May was there and she took him straight back to his shop and fed him some pastries and coffee. He remembers sitting there, staring at the Danish. It was really good, as always.

It didn't really hit Clint, not like it hit Ellie. But he could feel the significance of it. If he had—for some god-forsaken reason—imagined it beforehand, he would have pictured Ellie down there in the dirt with Maria, crying. But she acted like she couldn't, or something. He could practically see her holding it in. And if she was, what the hell else was she holding.

Later that night he felt like he had to talk to her. They went through that thing together. Shit, they almost died.

He found her in the stable with her horse. Of all places… She really cares about that boy. He's a good horse. Smart, Clint could tell, when they were out there. The way his eyes look around. She rode back to Jackson on him. They probably went through a lot together.

He walked over and got his attention. He thought she'd be mad but she wasn't. He had a lot in his head he could have said, but it didn't seem important when she was looking into his eyes. So he just said what he had to say. Someone should be there for her. There were tears on her face. But that someone wasn't him, he knew that, so he left.

After that he scarcely saw her through New Year's. It was a great night. He didn't drink much because it didn't feel right, somehow. Awesome food, though. He spent it with Gary and Jessica. They're totally dating. He stopped by May's booth, too. She had her usual big smile for him. She gave him a free berry pastry. It was awesome.

No one ever told Clint, and no one ever would, but he had a pretty good idea. That his mother had asked May to look after him when she was gone. Clint doesn't hold it against her, or anything. He likes May. She's good people. Sometimes when he's out on patrol, he thinks he's helping to keep her safe, and that makes him feel good.

Since there's a couple people in particular he can't keep safe anymore.

A couple more days pass and Clint hears a little about Ellie but doesn't see her. He's getting a little worried. Has the plan changed? Is Ellie losing her spirit? That would be bad… If what Ellie told him in front of the lodge is true, this could be the most important mission on the planet. He rubs his chin. Sounds fucking ridiculous, but it could be actually true.

One night as he's getting ready for bed, he's thinking he's gonna have to track her down tomorrow, and there's a knock on his door. He opens it and she's standing right there.

"Ellie…" Clint is standing there in his shirt and pajama bottoms.

"I think I'm ready to go," says Ellie. She doesn't wear hats but she doesn't act cold. There's snow in her hair. Clint's feet are freezing from the draft, but she doesn't act like she wants to come in.

Clint looks around, bewildered. "Now?"

Ellie laughs. "Shit, no, not now. In the morning, though." She's serious again. "Can you do that?"

Clint scratches his head. "Well… yeah, I guess. There's some people I have to say goodbye to." Only one, really.

"Good. We'll leave an hour after dawn, then." She turns as if to go.

"Ellie," he says, and she stops. He smirks. She calls him all business, but when she's serious it really better describes her. "We're really gonna do this thing?"

She eyes him and the beginning of a smile finds her lips. "You better fucking believe it."

He does.

He wakes up the next morning, thinking of a cup of hot black coffee, rubbing his hands together. Then he remembers and stops. His brow firms up.

He does fucking believe it. And he is not going to let Ellie down.

He cleans up and gets his gear together—his best gear, for this particularly long patrol, and all his ammo. His pack's pretty heavy. He checks his axe head. Sharp and polished, as usual.

He walks into May's café with his pack on. She smiles when she sees him, but it fades. "Hey Clint, grabbing some coffee for patrol?" Patrol leaves before dawn, and she knows that. He told her last week. She doesn't want to believe it's today.

He walks over and lays his elbows on the counter. "No. Grabbing some coffee for the big one."

She purses her lips and tilts her head in a sad look. "Oh no… not so soon. Don't you think you should wait another couple weeks, plan it out more?"

"I have a feeling Ellie has done plenty of planning."

"Yeah…" May scratches her lip. "Can I trust you with that girl? Cause I'm not letting you leave if I can't."

The memory of Alpenhof Lodge comes back and he brushes it aside. "You can trust me," says Clint. He's trying to smile, and show all the confidence he wasn't necessarily feeling. He doesn't like goodbyes.

"Oh, Clint." She reaches out and pinches his cheek. She's probably the last living person he'd let do it. "I remember when you were a youngin'."

"I was sixteen when you met me."

She arches her brows. "That's a youngin'. Jeez, why couldn't they get one of those griseled old farts to do this thing? Dinas or something. Maria sends you? On this mission?" She makes air quotes.

Clint decides not to mention that it's really Ellie that's doing it. "Guess this is just the way it had to be."

"Oh well aren't you the determined hero." She frowns, takes a breath and lets it out. "Well just don't go and be too heroic, alright?"

"I promise."

She comes around the counter and gives him a hug. She smells like flour. "Come back soon as you can."

"I promise that too."

When he gets to West Gate, Ellie is already there, but it looks like she just got there. She's already got Eddie and Starbeam. A breath shoots through Clint's nose. He's really going to ride across the country on a life or death mission on top of a horse named Starbeam. Maybe he can rename her…

Ellie is talking to Dina, Dale and JJ, the only other ones there. There are some folks over the fence, working the stables.

"Yeah, well I hope he knows it too." It's Dina, but Clint doesn't know what she's talking about. She notices him and looks his way. It makes him nervous.

"Yeah," says Ellie, watching him, "well as long as he listens to me, we'll be fine."

"Reporting for duty, Captain Ellie." He decides not to intervene in the conversation and climbs on top of Starbeam. He gives her a little scratch on the jowl.

Ellie sighs. "I guess it's time."

"After all of that," says Dina, "now you don't want to leave Jackson?" She's holding JJ.

Ellie scratches the back of her head. "Part of me never did, but… things happen."

Dina's gaze lingers on her, a smile painted on her lips. "Yep. They sure do." She glances at JJ, then eyes Ellie. "You really sure?"

Ellie nods, looking determined. Dina puts JJ down.

He's pretty damn cute in his big Winter jacket, but there's a look of consternation on his face. He's staring at Ellie. She kneels down in front of him.

"Hey, little spud. I wasn't looking forward to this part." Ellie brushes a bit of his hair to the side. Kid's probably gonna be pretty handsome when he grows up, if it's up to either of his parents' genes.

JJ's face hasn't changed. He probably doesn't understand what's happening at all.

"Me and Clint are going on a long ride. A real long one. I won't be back for a while."

"No," says JJ. The adult chuckle, but he's dead serious. "No!"

"Listen," says Ellie. She's about a foot from him. "You know how your dad has his job? How he has to go away for a while every day? Well, I have a job too. It's really important actually. So I have to go away for a while too."

"How long?" he asks. He's pretty articulate for his age. His brow is still pinched.

"Ah…" Ellie rubs her jaw. "Being honest? I'm not sure, but it could be like last time."

JJ's eyes go wide and he stiffens up. "No!"

"JJ, this is my job, I have to—"

But he's not hearing it. "No!" he shouts again, baring his teeth. He rears up his arm and strikes Ellie in the face with his fist.

It can't have hurt at all but Ellie goes straight to her feet. She takes a step back. JJ is glaring at her. Ellie looks stunned.

"JJ!" says his mom. She goes down and picks him up. "JJ we don't hit like that! You know that!" She keeps glancing at Ellie nervously. Ellie takes another step back, honestly she looks a bit haunted. She's staring at JJ's glaring face. Her eyes move around and she climbs straight onto Eddie.

"Ellie, no!" says Dina. "Wait—damn it, Dale, take him!" Dale finally takes JJ from Dina and Dina runs around Eddie, grabbing the reins. "Damn it, Ellie, you're not leaving like this, okay?" Ellie stares at her, eyes slightly wide. "He didn't mean that, okay? Jesus, he's two. He'll stop being mad in like twenty minutes. He'll probably ask for you later. Don't do that, okay?"

Ellie just stares.

Clint's limbs are stiff. He feel like he should do something but he's frozen. This feels private, but he's stuck right here.

"Ellie, I love you. He loves you. That's never going to change." Dina bares her teeth. "Ellie you're gonna come back from this thing in one piece, alright? For him, and for me. Tell me. Promise me!"

Compelled, Ellie finally nods.

Dina looks at Clint. "You promise too."

Clint's stomach twists. There's part of it that goes unsaid, but Dina's eyes make it perfectly clear.

And it'll be on you if she doesn't.

He nods.

The gate's already open. "Let's ride, Clint." Dina's still holding the reins. Ellie looks at her. "You guys take care of each other."

Dina finally lets go and Ellie brings Eddie right up to a gallop, and Clint's right behind her.

The air is crisp and cutting as they rush through it on horseback, but the sky is clear today. The sun is climbing the frosty blue sky. They ride south down the valley, coming up alongside the Snake River. It's waters are a deep blue now, thundering along beside them. At one point Clint sees a fish jump from the surface. How does something survive in a current that cold?

They gallop for a long while, then canter, then Ellie pulls Eddie up and Clint does the same. They couldn't have continued like that forever. Horses wouldn't last. But Clint has a feeling that Ellie just had to run that off. The horses snort and shake their heads. Clint reaches down and rubs Starbeam's neck empathetically.

He looks over his shoulder up the valley. It's a beautiful place, they live in. Lived. They can still see Jackson, a thin horizontal line in the distance. Clint could feel the distance growing the whole ride. He leaves that town just about every day, but each time with the intention to return. But not this time. It was going to be a long time before he got his hands on another waffle sandwich. He's already starting to miss it.

He sets his jaw and pinches his brow. But he wouldn't go back for anything. Ellie cannot be out here on her own. Everything she has she's leaving behind too. And she's been through…

He glances at her. She's just sitting on Eddie, back to him, panting like she'd been running too. She rolls her shoulder. She's got lean, stringy arms, but her back is pretty muscular. A lot wider than when he'd first met her. She's done a lot of fighting. It's changed her.

He's thought about what's brought them together, but it still doesn't really make sense. It doesn't need to, though. They're together now. And he is not going to let Ellie down.

"You steady?" he asks her.

She half turns. She lets one more breath out of her nose and her breathing goes back to normal. Eddie is munching on grass. "You know we can still go back, give up on this ridiculous thing." She looks at him.

He considers her and snorts. "We haven't even left the valley yet and you're getting cold feet? Food in Jackson too good to lose?"

"Yeah…" says Ellie, smiling as she turns, "give it a couple weeks and you'll be crying for one of your sandwiches." She flicks the reins and they pick back up.

They ride mostly in silence that day. They alternate between walk and canter on the horses. Don't want to wear them out. They eventually lose sight of Jackson and land on the 191. It's mostly clear of cars, being a country highway. People that ran into trouble or out of gas tended to do that in urban areas. They ride the horses mostly on the side of the highway, where possible, to ease their hooves.

It's pretty exposed, but they don't encounter a soul, infected or otherwise for the rest of the day. They end up pulling up a little before sundown north of Beaver Mountain.

Clint spent a lot of the last week looking at maps. He's got a few in his pack. It's a big damn country. They've barely made any distance from Jackson.

They're setting up camp under the cover of some trees when he turns to Ellie, striking up a fire. "Ellie," he starts in a tone that says she's been holding out on him.

She looks up at him, taken aback. "What?"

"Where the fuck are we going?"

"Oh," she says, then she smiles and continues striking the flint. "You mean you weren't just going to blindly follow me into oblivion?"

"Rather not."

"Grand Junction."

"Huh?"

"It's a city in Western Colorado. I passed through it on my last trek. I was just looking for supplies, when—call it fate if you want to, I don't fucking know—I stumbled on a freaking Firefly den. Or base, camp, whatever."

Clint can't believe it. "Shit, Ellie, was there anyone there?"

"No. Been empty a long time." The kindling catches and she blows on it. "But there were papers. And a radio."

Clint kinda doesn't want to admit it but it's actually a pretty damn good lead. "Grand Junction then."

They were going to have to hunt and forage for most of their food, but that ain't easy in the winter and they brought a lot of canned stuff. Good canned stuff, not the heinous, expired shit from pre-outbreak. Ellie makes a pretty bland soup and they have some of their dried fruit.

It's getting dark, but it's still warm by the fire. They're just laying against some logs they pulled up.

"God damn it!" says Ellie, pretty much out of nowhere.

"What's the matter?" asks Clint.

"Clint, do you have any exes?"

Not expecting the question, he lays there awkwardly with one hand half raised. "Uh, yeah. Jessica, I guess."

"Did she get with an asshole after that?"

"Um, no, actually—"

Ellie's eyes offer emphasis. "She got with a nice guy?"

"Yeah, Todd—"

"Doesn't that fucking suck?"

A laugh jumps out of Clint. He bunches his lips and nods. "Yeah. You know what, Ellie? That does suck."

She laughs a little. "Now I'm the asshole!"

"Yep," says Clint, "me too."

"It's fucking bullshit!" She rolls over, facing away from him. He glimpses the line her side makes and he goes back inspecting his knife. "No wonder we're the ones sleeping out here in the cold."

He wants to laugh at that, or offer a witty retort, since that had been going pretty well. Nothing seems to want to come out of him, though.

Fabric rustles and Ellie looks over her shoulder at him. "Never mind that, Clint. I shouldn't be grouping us together."

"Well, you kinda did."

"Okay but don't take it—"

"No, not that." She looks again. Clint gestures around them to the trees and darkness.

She scoffs and lays back down. "I guess that's true."

"We're two assholes in a pod, now."

"That's just an awful image."

That does get a laugh out of him.

It's a cold Winter but they have a good tent and a couple of the best sleeping bags they could get their hands on, so they do alright. Doesn't do much to soften the ground, though. Clint's back complains quite a bit the first week or so.

After they get out of the Wyoming mountains and onto the greater plains, riding is pretty good. Not much in the way of cover out here, but the terrain is covered in low, rolling hills, so they take the low parts and don't encounter anyone. They have to jump a few fences.

Ellie's a damn clean shot with her bow. Clint sees her take out a rabbit at probably fifty yards. They don't get meat every night, though. A lot of animals still hibernating.

It's a pretty common sight for Ellie to pull out her journal at night. Sometimes she writes, sometimes she draws. He doesn't ask. He catches her eye one night as she's working on it. She gives him a level look.

"Read it anytime you want," she says. She goes back to writing. "Just remember the price is your life."

He snorts.

He wonders what she gets out of it. They're picking over an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere when he opens a drawer and finds a notebook. He opens it. It's never been written in. There's one page torn out. He even finds some working writing utensils. That night by the fire he pulls it out. Ellie chuckles.

"Oh man…"

"What?" says Clint. Ellie is so good at getting under his skin. He really tries not to be defensive, but she… Sometimes it seems like she thinks of him as way younger, even though it's only a couple years.

She has one of those damn knowing smiles. "I mean," she says, fingers moving in her smooth, rhythmic motions of sketchwork, "there are worse examples to follow." She lifts her hand, inspecting her work. "Probably," she finishes in a different tone.

He cocks an eyebrow but doesn't respond. It's cold that night and dinner was pretty lousy. They go to sleep early.

The infected are pouring in through the window, wailing in horrid screeches of hate. Bev's back is to him, she fires off several shots. She turns to him, face red and raging.

"Clint! Go fucking help her!" She fires off more shots.

Clint's body won't move. He's crying again. The gun is cold and useless in his hands.

The runner's feet pound the ground as they charge. She shoots another one down. She turns to him again. "Clint! Fucking move!"

He can't move.

"Would you listen to me, god damn it!" She keeps shooting, but she's staring at him. One of the infected grabs her arm and bites her wrist. She doesn't pay any mind. "Why aren't you doing what I god damn told you!" More infected grab her and she ignores them as they start tearing into her arms with their teeth, ripping away blood and tendons. "Clint!"

Now she's on the ground, under the railing. The infected are all over her, devouring her. She won't stop looking at him. He's quivering.

"Would you fucking listen to me for once!"

Clint starts up from his sleeping bag and emits a shuddering moan. He brings his hand to his face and massages his eyes. He steadies his breathing. He hopes Ellie didn't hear that.

Fuck, he hates that dream.

It's still dark outside, and very quiet. He looks over and sees Ellie looking at him with a neutral expression.

Shit.

She doesn't say anything, though. He lays back down. He doesn't expect to get anymore sleep.

He can see moonlight through the canvas walls of their tent, sloping to the peak line. No crickets in the winter. Just the susurrus of the wind. An hour later, the sun starts to rise.

Ellie gets up and starts getting ready without saying anything. Clint doesn't think either one of them slept after his dream.

Their breakfasts are always cold, but Clint starts a fire for coffee. He only made room for one can, so he only uses it when he really wants it. This is the first time so far. Ellie gives him a questioning look. He pulls out the can. She rolls her eyes, hard.

"I can't believe you're making Starbeam carry that thing."

"Eddie's carrying about fifty pounds of firearms."

"Those are useful."

He makes it in a pot and pours it carefully into his thermos through a rag. He takes a sip while it's still piping hot. It's pretty damn good.

"You wanna talk about it?" asks Ellie.

Clint studies her. Behind her he can still see the mountain range around Jackson, regal and permanent. The sky is a light, burgeoning blue, with masses of great, whirling clouds. It's beautiful.

He's not sure she really wants to know. But she is asking. He looks down at his steaming coffee and considers.

"My sister."

"Bev?"

Shit. He was talking in his sleep too? Either Ellie's a light sleeper or she just has trouble sleeping at all.

"Yeah, Bev," Clint says. He swirls his coffee around in his thermos and screws the lid on. "Man, she was bossy. I loved her, though. She kept me and mom alive. I was young, back then." There's a bitter twist on his lips. "She always treated me like a kid. She refused to teach me how to use a gun."

"That's—" Ellie starts, then catches herself. He looks at her.

"Stupid. Yeah." His arm flexes and he clenches his fist for a second. "You and I can agree on that.

"We had a close call one time." He can see the infected pouring in from the window, his sister ripping off shots as she screams for him to help their mom clear the door. "Almost bit it. But we didn't, and after that I demanded she start letting me help. So she relented. Didn't help when—" He has to stop suddenly. He looks down and rubs his jaw. It's hard to keep his voice even.

"Didn't help when it really mattered." He can see her under the railing, eyes on him, a strange smile on her face. "Got surprised by infected in an old community center. They tackled her on this walk by a railing above the pool. I kept shooting… I kept shooting but they didn't give a shit about me, too busy—" Mauling her, he doesn't say. He takes a breath. "When they were all dead she was still there, but she was bleeding out. And that…" He shakes his head. This has gone on long enough. "And that was it."

"I'm sorry." Ellie's watching him, cutting her cowboy figure, right hand on her gun holster. There's pity in her eyes, but not more than he can handle. He can't tell what she's thinking. But she's listening, she's really listening.

"Well…" He gets up and straps his thermos on Starbeam. He's in a dour mood. "Shit. I guess I am too, but what are we gonna do about it?"

"This, I guess."

He looks at her but she doesn't elaborate. She walks over and climbs on Eddie. Eddie's looking at him. Ellie clicks her tongue and they start moving.

They cover a lot of ground that day.

Clint's not keeping track, but it takes them probably around two weeks to reach Grand Junction.

They come down straight from the North over some low, sandy foothills. They're pretty much avoiding all established roadways. They even got one of those marked up maps the traders use and sometimes sell. With modern trade routes on them. They're far from complete, but they show where they might expect caravan traffic and particularly dangerous areas. Very useful. Ellie had been impressed when Clint showed her. They hadn't had those last time she was in Jackson.

They reach a point where they have a good vista of Grand Junction. They're above the airport, and the towns stretches out before them. It's mostly suburban. There are some two and three story buildings downtown. The hospital stands out. Off to the West there's farmland. Which, Clint can only tell because of the patchwork fencing and pathways. It's all overgrown.

He stops. No, it isn't. There are some sections on the South side that are clearly planted. "Ellie," he says. She looks. He points it out to her. She nods.

"Yeah, there were assholes here last time too."

"What flavor?"

"Not sure, didn't get close. They drive around in trucks, though, so they've got gear."

"Max caution, then."

"Max caution."

They spend the better part of the day riding around the foothills until they find a path down that's relatively covered. On the outskirts of town they tie up the horses at Ellie's insistence. They use long ties so they can roam and graze.

They creep into town, eyes searching, going house to house. Now and then they hear infected behind some wall, but they don't bother with any of them. The houses are all pretty beat up and weathered, yards riddled with scrubby, snow covered bushes. It was probably a pretty nice neighborhood at one time, though.

"How far?" Clint asks in a low voice.

"Half mile."

It ends up being a low, rectangular building. Looks like it was built a hundred years ago. Doesn't even have a modern parking lot, just a little paved area by the corner of the block and a brown grass field behind it. It was probably an old timey warehouse. It's not very big. The doors around the outside are all welded shut, and the small windows so boarded up it's probably pitch black inside. It's the kind of post-outbreak building that screams do not enter.

"Shit, in there?" Clint asks.

She smirks at him. "Scared?"

He scoffs. "How do we get into this shit?"

She points a finger up. There's an old dumpster on the field side. They climb up. She boosts him first, since catching all Clint's weight with one hand is a dubious proposition, even for Ellie.

He is pretty nervous, actually. Infected he can handle. People are fucking dangerous, and they could be anywhere. If he were one of them he'd post lookouts throughout the city. He glances around, but it's just still, quiet houses. The skies are gray. A light snowfall starts.

Ellie leads him to a trap door on the corner of the roof. She pulls it open slowly, but it still squeals a bit. As Clint expected, it's pitch dark inside.

"After you," says Ellie.

Clint switches on his flashlight and starts climbing down the ladder. At the bottom he turns and sees a huge stash of crates and stuff covering an entire wall of the warehouse. Then he turns and sees why.

The floor of the warehouse is dominated by bunks and more modern looking storage boxes. There are desks, equipment. On the other side he can see the radio. Above it, someone spray painted the Firefly symbol. The crates against the wall were probably the original contents of the warehouse they needed to get out of the way.

Ellie drops down behind him with a huff.

"Ellie what compelled you to enter this creepy ass building?"

She considers him. "The most foreboding buildings are the ones most likely to still have stuff in them." She kicks a can as she walks in, it rattles across the floor. Not very careful. "And it does."

Well, it did. The storage containers are almost totally empty. No food, or guns, but there are some medical supplies. Clint also finds a bottle of brandy. He considers, then puts it in his pack.

"You're sharing that." Ellie is going over one of the desks.

"Finders keepers."

"I found the building!"

"You find anything over there?"

"I mean…" She frowns as she reads something under her flashlight. "It's interesting, but not really." She drops it and walks over to the radio.

Clint walks over and sees what she was looking at.

No more skirmishes. This is straight from Marlene. FEDRA's a son of a bitch and we're at the point where we need to rally. Don't get cozy, you're probably gonna get recalled from that location. I know how much you love it.

Ellie gave up too early. If that is indeed what happened, there have to be orders here somewhere. He starts sorting through the papers.

He hears a click and turns to see electronic lights. "What the hell?"

"Sweet," says Ellie. She flicks on a desk light.

"How did you do that without a generator?"

"There's some kind of fuel cells here or something. It's kinda Gerry rigged. Little sketch, but it works." She starts messing with the radio. Static comes out, but that's all.

Clint tries his desk light and gets nothing. Damn it.

He continues poring over the paperwork. It actually sheds a lot of light about how the Fireflies operated. They're paramilitary, but their mission stays front and center. Leadership keeps them on track when they start getting antsy to take the fight to FEDRA, or whatever bastard ass local organization FEDRA turned into. Not much seems to have happened in Grand Junction. They were pretty much just hiding here. They relay messages over the AM radios. That's what these 'bases' are for. Radio signal can only travel a few hundred miles at a time, under ideal circumstances. So they have to hopscotch their way across the country.

Fucking bad news, because Clint has the impression that most if not all of these bases are shut down, just like this one.

He picks up another piece of paper and freezes. It's not like the others.

"Damn it," says Ellie. She's been trying all sorts of stations but hasn't gotten any response. "I've tried every frequency on this list, and nothing. Damn it, why aren't there more frequencies?"

"Ellie." He doesn't look but he can tell he has her attention. He starts reading.

"Fucking mess, right? Well you can blame Cortez for that. He was always a slob. Anyway, if you're reading this, and you are actually crazy enough to be on the hunt for Fireflies, we've all been recalled to regional in Portland. There are maps in the top right drawer. We left a few. God help you if you want to join us, but we could use you. Take whatever you need, not like we can stop you. We took everything we could carry. Pack's real heavy and Cortez is gonna owe me for carrying all this damn booze.

"Anyway. Look. I'll be honest. It's bad out there. It's not good in Bland Junction and others have it a lot worse. There's a chance we won't make it to Portland. But we're going to try. We're not giving up," Clint pauses, looking at Ellie. "And neither should you."

For a few moments there's nothing but the static from the radio. Ellie's expression is pensive. She looks down.

"Where's Portland?" Clint asks.

"Too close to Seattle," she mutters. "And a long ass way from here."

"Good thing we have the kids then." It's become Clint's nickname for the horses. It usually makes Ellie roll her eyes, but not now. She keeps frowning. Bad memories, maybe. Well, that sucks, and Clint knows it well, but this is a win. "Buck up, kiddo, we got ground to cover."

That does make her give him a look. She walks over and opens the desk drawer, pulling out a couple maps.

"Hey," says Clint, "we only need one."

She looks at him like he's stupid.

"Others might come after us and find the note," he says defensively.

She looks like she can't believe him. "Others? Clint, we are the probably the last living people that are going to enter this building until—" She stops abruptly.

Clint's brow pinches. "Until? Until what?"

"Nevermind. We're taking two. One of us could lose our pack but we can't lose this map. Come on."

He follows up her up the ladder and out of the building. His boots smack onto the asphalt as he jumps off the dumpster. He searches the buildings around them but it's as quiet as when they arrived. The snow drifts silently through the air. "Let's get out of Bland Junction," he says in low tones.

Ellie doesn't respond but starts walking. They come back around the corner of the decrepit building in the direction of the horses. When they turn the corner, there are four people there.

"Fuck!" says Ellie.

Something flies through the air and hits Clint, but it's not a bullet. It wraps around him and thuds him in the chest. He can't move his right arm.

"Fucking nailed 'em!" It's a guy not much older than them with dark hair and narrow eyes. He's got an ugly smirk on. "Don't worry, Kat, we'll teach you to bola someday."

They got Ellie, too, both her arms are bound. "Clint!" she says, voice tinged with rage.

Suddenly he's got a gun in his right hand, but immediately he's aware of three barrels pointed at him.

"Ah ah ah. Put that down. Now."

The math isn't hard.

"Clint!"

Die now, or maybe survive. Clint slowly lowers his gun to the ground.

"Good boy," the narrow eyed guy saunters over. "Ah… good haul here. You kids are going to behave, aren't you?" He looks Ellie up and down. "Oh ho ho, look at this one. We have a winner."

"I'll bite your fucking throat out!"

He laughs. "Whoa! Maybe not." He eyes the others. "Tell you what, why don't you come try?"

Ellie is snarling. She looks ready to do it. She doesn't move. He approaches her slowly. She actually lunges at him, but he catches her collar with his left hand and brutally pistol whips her with his right. She goes down.

That red rage lights up in Clint's chest. He catches the guy's eyes. "You are going to regret that." The others are slowly surrounding him.

"I don't really like your attitude." He makes a gesture. Something slams into Clint's head, and everything goes black.