Author's Note: Not much to say, just thank you for reading this far. I certainly welcome reviews, but it makes me feel good just to know there are people who are sharing this story. I know it's not pretty, a lot of the time. But it is about closure. A more real, hopefully more satisfying ending for Ellie. I hope you can trust me. Enjoy.
The infected are pounding against the door, shrieking. The sound cuts through him like a knife. He's drooling and he feels like he might throw up. He's never been so scared in his life.
Bev is there, leaning against the now-closed door. She's panting. When she turns on him, she's as scary as the monsters outside.
"What the fuck did I tell you!" She's so scared, almost as scared as him, but her face is twisted in anger. "You almost got yourself killed!"
He's trembling and crying. "Don't cry!" she snarls. She comes and leans over into his face. "You listen to me, Clint."
He wants to throw up but he's trying not to. He wants to cry but he's trying not to.
"If you ever do that again, if you don't listen to me, if you put me and mom in danger…" She's panting hard. She's so scared. She doesn't want to say it but she makes herself. "Then we'll leave you."
He starts wailing and she pulls him into her arms.
Clint shudders in his sleeping bag, uttering a painful sound. His stomach lurches and he covers his mouth with his hand. His eyes are wet.
It's that one pain, running up and down the left side of his chest. He feels awful, but he just sits there and breathes for a minute, until it starts to go away.
God damn it, he really didn't want Ellie to see that. He looks. This time, she's actually sleeping. He sighs relief.
Of course he would have that dream, after their conversation yesterday.
God, he had been so pissed. Ellie's smart and a good survivor, but she obviously doesn't fucking get it. It's bad out here. He's starting to remember. He hadn't realized he had tried to forget, in Jackson. And when it's that bad, and it's just the two of you, the other person's life is about as important as yours. And she acted like she didn't give a fuck.
God, what did all that time alone do to her?
He looks over. She's not dreaming. Features all slack. She looks totally different. She looks five years younger. She looks like someone he should be taking care of, not the other way around.
He decides to stop looking and lays back down against his pack. He's pretty sure he's not gonna get back to sleep.
He doesn't.
Ellie rises wordlessly around dawn, like usual. They have their cold breakfast, but Clint rebuilds the fire for coffee. Ellie makes her noises, but she doesn't argue.
And soon enough, they set off on their long road.
They're coming on mid-Winter and it's real cold in this part of the country. No snow around them at the moment, but it's not far away. He can see patches under bushes and nestled against tree roots. Sky is a bright blue and it's gorgeous. They get a bit of sunlight through the branches here and there. It's bright, but not very warm.
"It's not that I don't care," says Ellie out of nowhere. She looks at him. "About all those people."
"I know."
"Do you?" She glances casually around at their surroundings. She's wearing a serious look. Clint pegs it as a bit defensive. "I've dealt with a lot of assholes out there. In a lot of situations. A lot. There are a lot of sides to survival. But one of them, generally, is becoming an asshole yourself."
"You're not really an asshole, Ellie," says Clint.
She appraises him. "If it walks like a duck…"
"You're not," he repeats. "The kind of person I'm thinking of… You have to keep motive in mind. What's your motive?"
She doesn't respond at first but he waits for an answer. "The cure."
"Exactly."
The horses plod over the loam. They've got their winter wools on, but he still figures they have to get cold. He rubs Starbeam's neck.
"I wanted to help Clara, Clint." It comes out pretty quiet. "I wanted to help Sarah and Jason, too. But I knew I couldn't guarantee anything." She looks at him. She's not angry. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."
His stomach turns. He feels some anger come on, but he can't argue. He sits with it for a while, and eventually he has to admit she's right. That's exactly what he had done. He can see Clara's face again, touched by a rare and unusual hope.
Fuck. I'm sorry, Clara. I'm really fucking sorry.
His fists clench the reins. This is no joke. From now until it's over, the mission is everything. And it's his mission too, whatever Ellie says. If this thing is remotely possible, he owes it to Clara, to May, and to everyone else. Nothing can be allowed to get in their way. It may cost him his life.
He tells himself he's prepared to go that far.
"So on that note," says Ellie, "were those guys dicks, or what?"
"Massive," says Clint.
"I've actually never dealt with legit slavers before. Can you imagine that? Takes a special kind of person to make a living that way. They got what they deserved. Them and that old prick who was bossing them."
"Reg," says Clint. He takes a swig of coffee and wipes his mouth. "I killed him."
"Whoa, seriously? Sick dude!" Ellie actually slows Eddie down to give him a high five. He smiles a little. "How did you do it?"
"It was… It was kind of a long fight. And messy. Honestly, I'd rather not say." Clint is looking at the soil, remembering and not liking it. He looks at Ellie and gestures to his face. "He was the…"
She makes a grossed out face. "Eugh, that was freaking nasty. Did you bite his throat out?"
"What? No! God… You were really gonna do it to that guy, though."
"He'd have deserved it."
It's as good as an admission, but he puts it to the side. "Yeah… I wanted to kill him, honestly. I told him he'd regret it after he knocked you out."
"He doesn't," she says. "But he doesn't have to worry about regrets anymore, because he's dead."
"Nice," he says. But it doesn't feel that nice.
They ride on for a while in silence.
"You've been up the way we're going before," says Clint. "Or thereabouts. You have any kind of plan on how we're going to get there?"
She screws up her lips. "We can take some of my old paths. Some of the way. Never been near Portland."
"Know anything about it?"
"Not a clue."
"You said it was too close to Seattle."
She doesn't respond for a few seconds. "It is."
"Seattle was bad, huh?" He's pretty sure he's treading on thin ice. He won't push it if she doesn't answer.
It seems like she's not going to. Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Yeah, Clint, it was really, really bad."
He's trying to think how to respond when she just starts going.
"Joel had just died, back then. I watched it." She looks at him. "Anyone tell you that? I know there were rumors."
He nods.
"Well I did, and it was worse than anything you can imagine. I told myself that if I could just kill her, then everything would be better. I was wrong, but I believed it because I was desperate.
"I went to Seattle, and I killed a lot of fucking people. Most of them were assholes. Some weren't… I almost got Dina killed." Her voice is quiet. "Before she had JJ."
Clint lets the silence reign for a while.
"What was it like in Seattle?"
She takes another breath. "It was one of those cities where FEDRA lost and a worse organization took over. Then there was some kind of… there was like a woman who started a cult or something. The WLF—wolves, they call them—they kill the woman. Then she's a martyr, and her followers turn into killer fanatics. It was basically an ongoing war. So many people were killed…"
"Sounds awful."
"It was."
"Nothing you just described was your fault."
"No," she says. She looks up. There's a squirrel in one of the high branches above them. "That would fall at the feet of Cordyceps. And people, I guess."
"Let's hope Portland is in better shape."
She scoffs. "You better pray."
They had done the math. Portland was about eight hundred miles away. It would be late Winter by the time they arrived.
Damn it.
He's going to run out of coffee.
I'm starting to trust Clint a bit more. I didn't expect his reaction when I got on him about Grand Junction at all. I've decided it's good, though. He's obviously taking it seriously. Just not quite seriously enough, not yet. He said he got mad because it was personal somehow. I wanted to tell him afterward, to explain. I just couldn't. That the only reason I said it is I've watched a lot of fucking people die, and I'd rather not add him to the list.
Well, either way, I must have satisfied him because he's pretty much back to his regular self. Half I'm a very serious adult, half roll-my-eyes goofus. He's funny, sometimes. Most of the time I just want to throw something at him. Sometimes I do.
We've cleared Utah and are making our way into Idaho. Been quiet. Good. Had a couple snowstorms, but nothing that's pinned us down. Not much in the way of game, but fair forage. We've stuck to forested regions. Horses are good. Eddie's not fond of the cold, though. Big guy. I give him kisses when Clint's not looking. Starbeam sees though. She's jealous.
We've dipped into a couple towns. Standard infected, but no mishaps. Clint's good with a gun, but he can't pull a bow for shit. I've spent some time teaching him. He's plenty strong, but he doesn't have the muscle memory. Give him time.
There was this one time, though. We were just walking down the street, horses tied up. I just walk in front of this little house. Tiny house. And the door blasts open and infected come running out. Must have seen me through the window or something. They charge me and I start shooting. Clint gets in between me and them, almost in my line of fire. He starts shooting… It's over pretty quick. Afterward I'm like "What the fuck!" He looks at me like I'm crazy.
Asshole. He's all "We have a mission, or did you forget that?" He says he can die, if it comes down to it. But not me. I actually got mad, but not for that long.
He wasn't wrong. Still pissed me off. Partly because that doesn't feel good, after everything I've seen and been through. Also. It's hard for me to believe he's actually… that he's actually that committed. I mean, who could ask that of someone. Die for me. I fucking couldn't.
Shit, sometimes I really think that bringing him was a mistake. That it wouldn't be more merciful to leave him behind. He could never track me.
Then I remember how he reacted when I actually threatened to do it.
When it comes down to it. It's my prerogative. My choice.
And I guess it's his choice too.
Well, we're rolling.
Ellie still acts like she's twice my age, but she trusts me a little more every day. After going through the movements a number of times, we can communicate using a lot less words. See a runner at the end of the hall, but it's looking my way and she went the other way, so I wait. Sure enough, she comes around the corner, knifes it, doesn't even look at me, and we keep going.
Very few people I'd patrol with that I would trust to have Ellie's level of stealth. Or decisiveness. Or viciousness, when necessary. And none of them would I expect to have it all. Ellie's the real deal. It's not surprising she could survive out here on her own anymore.
Except what she said is true for her, too. One mistake. And when you're on your own, there's no one to fall back on. I've seen clickers get the drop on her. Any town we pass through—and it's not many, minimal risk—any town we pass through she could get sniped right off Eddie. What's she gonna do, then? Patch herself up, and fight them off at the same time?
I don't know. If anyone could survive something like that, it might be her. But I'm not going to let that happen. Sooner or later, she's gonna get it. That we're better together.
Sometimes I wonder… I wonder if…
Damn, I really don't want to write it because I'm still not convinced she won't read this thing. She's sneaky.
Sometimes I'll see her. She'll be up on a vista or something, surveying the landscape. She's got this, prominence, this independence. Like it's just her and she's scouting for her own survival. Cold and sure as the wind blowing over us. She has this look in her eye and damn it I can't put it into words but I worry about her. There's like a… finality in this journey for her. And I don't know how I sense that, but I do.
She acts strong, and she is, but how many more hits can she take? I'm not even sure we waited long enough in Jackson after Tommy. Sometimes she'll say some pretty not nice stuff about herself. She'll say it like she's joking, but it's not really funny. Not to me. It's there, in the implied words and the things unsaid. She acts like she doesn't like herself very much. So I try to like her for her.
Well, Ellie, if you do read this I'm not taking it back. Maybe we can have an actual conversation about it.
Also, the thing. Definitely not under control. Manageable, though. It's not… it's not an affliction, not yet. I'm alright.
I think we've crossed the Oregon border. Not that borders really matter anymore, but we're getting there. Plenty of snow and it's fucking cold, but it's been quiet and that's good. Mountains rise up and pass by us. All capped in bright white, like pure flour. The trees are endless. Huge and green, to offset the blinding whiteness of the snowfields. Now and then we pass over a stream, crystal clear and endlessly chattering.
Mom was right. It's gorgeous out here.
Portland doesn't look so good.
They found a small hill East of the city, so they can see over the trees that have reclaimed the land around them. Portland is in the distance. A dark blue line, the Columbia River, rolls through the landscape and between the tall steel walls around the city. There are a lot of trees, on both sides of the wall, but they can see the suburban tracts, and some tall buildings off to the left.
The FEDRA wall is there, but there must have been some serious warfare at some point, because the wall is destroyed at several points. Should give them easy entry at least. Also, maybe if the infected aren't trapped inside, there won't be as many.
Wishful thinking.
They had wended their way through the outlying cities. They briefly considered the river, but they didn't have a boat for the horses and it's probably really well guarded.
Ellie's nerves started to come back as they drew closer. Major cities are the most dangerous places left. She didn't mind in Seattle, and New York, but now she has something she needs to do, and she'd like to do it in the least dangerous way possible. But here they are. The base is in Buckman Elementary School. Closer to downtown than she'd like. They picked up a city map at a grocery store a while back.
"Steady as she goes," says Clint. Starbeam is munching on the grass under them.
"Think you need to tell me?"
"You're nervous, right?" he asks.
She gives him a long look, but in the end she concedes. "Of course."
"You'd be stupid if you weren't. And you're a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them."
She just nods at that. She doesn't really have a reason, but she doesn't feel like moving yet.
They'd passed a mountain a day back. Mount Hood. Oregon is a pretty flat region but Mount Hood stood above the snowy forest imperiously, peak making a proud point into the gray sky. It was beautiful.
"I think I'd like to check that place out before I die," she had said without thinking.
"Huh? That mountain?"
"Yeah. Cool, right? Looks like Mount Fuji."
"Never seen Mount Fuji, but I like it."
"See how this goes. Maybe we can stop by there after or something."
"I'm game."
Now she hears a rustling and she looks over to see Clint eating some of the nuts he found. He offers her, but she shakes her head.
Dude's always eating. He grazes like the horses. She pointed it out one time, and he had flexed his arm and said 'Gotta feed this, right?' He likes to do that, and like the times before, she'd responded with a scoffing laugh.
"I like that one on the left," she says, pointing to one of the openings in the wall.
"Fine by me." His eyes are scanning the land in front of them. He's pretty vigilant. Good.
She doesn't say anything else because nothing else needs to be said. She nudges Eddie into a walk and they keep going.
From the fences and tractors and farmhouses, she can tell this area used to be farmland, but it's back to being forest, now. They cross several paved roads, asphalt pale and almost cracked out of existence, but they don't follow them. This area wasn't densely populated, and they hear infected only a couple times, in the distance. Where there going, though, it's going to be different.
They talk about tying the horses up outside the wall, but they're still miles from their destination. The wall, when it emerges from the trees, is about twenty feet tall, like in Seattle. This one is crisscrossed steel bars, though. You can see through, but again, it's mostly trees. Suits Ellie.
"Holy shit…" says Clint. It's probably his first time seeing something like this.
At some point someone drove an incredibly heavy vehicle, probably a tank, right through the wall here. The bars are all ripped and stretched. It also took out a vertical beam so the damage goes all the way up the wall. It's why they could see it from so far away. The ground is still torn up but they're able to walk the horses over the concrete foundation. Their hooves clack over the stone.
She gives Clint one more look, just in case he's not with her. He returns it.
"Max caution, here on out," he says.
"Max caution."
The trees continue for some time, then all of the sudden they're in a city.
The pavement of the interconnected streets broke the advancement of the trees. There are lines of houses, yards full of bushes. All dark. All quiet. They walk the horses up the yards, to minimize the sound of their hooves. They have to jump a few low fences.
The suburbs are good, offering a lot of cover. Sometimes they run up against a commercial area. Shopping centers and parking lots. Neither one of them like it, so they turn around and go a different way.
The sun isn't out. The sky is a gray sheet. The asphalt is wet. It must have rained recently. Ellie hopes it doesn't start back up. They pass under a tall, bright green pine. It's beautiful. When Ellie looks back down, Eddie's ears are twitching. She frowns.
"Clint, have you seen any squirrels lately?"
"What?"
She sees something out of the corner of her eye, in a window. She looks, and she sees it again. It's the glint of a scope.
"Clint!"
A shot cracks out and she feels an impact by her leg. Eddie screeches. She can see blood run down his side. "No!" she screams. There's another crack and it hits Eddie in the chest. He falls on his side and Ellie is thrown clear. She rolls to all fours. "Eddie!"
Clint is just a few feet away. There's a van between him and the gunman. He's urgently trying to keep Starbeam calm. He wide eyes are locked on Eddie. "Ellie, get over here!"
She goes to him but she looks right back at Eddie. He's on the ground, thrashing. There's another shot and it hits him in the neck. "You bastards!" she screams.
"Ellie, get on Starbeam, we have to go."
She takes some heavy, fast breaths. Eddie is looking at her. She doesn't think. She pulls out her magnum, walks over, and puts it on his temple. Clint curses and she can hear him rip off some shots for cover.
Eddie is making a wimpering sound. He's in a lot of pain. His big brown eye finds hers. It says so much, like it always has.
"I love you, buddy," she says. She pulls the trigger.
Not a second after she gets back behind the van does a bullet rip past right behind her. One of the men yells something. Another one not far away answers.
"Ellie!" Clint is extending his hand. She takes it and gets on back of Starbeam. As soon as they clear the van, Ellie rips a couple shots at the window. The man curses and ducks inside. "Die!" she shrieks as Clint brings Starbeam to a gallop.
Some bullets chase after them but they don't find their mark. The men are on foot and soon they're clear.
The frigid wind cuts painful lines down Ellie's face as they ride. Warm tears run across her cheeks. Her teeth are clenched. They ride for probably a mile. They cut through a cemetery, headstones mossy and overgrown under the shade of tall pines. They pass through an open field. Ellie sees a soccer goal, and then playground equipment. She looks up, and there through the trees is a huge, two story red brick building. A school. She remembers the cemetery on the map and it clicks. This is it. Buckman Elementary.
Starbeam is panting. "Easy girl, easy," Clint says, "We're okay now. We're okay."
Ellie climbs off of Starbeam, dropping onto the wet grass. Her gun is still in her hand. She doesn't really know what she means to do. She takes two steps toward the building and her knees give out. Her legs hit the ground and she immediately feels the cold wetness through her jeans. She moans involuntarily.
"Shit, Ellie!" Clint jumps down to her. He hesitates, then he grabs her shoulder. "Ellie… I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"
He keeps saying it and she hates everything but she doesn't push him off. She's grimacing so hard her face hurts and the tears are pouring down. She keeps sobbing, and it hurts bad every time.
Some time later, she has no idea how long, she huffs some strength back into her chest and forces herself to stand. "Get inside," she says. Her voice is gravelly.
Clint has that dumb, useless worried look but he listens to her. He walks up to one of the windows. He tries a couple but they're locked. One on the end is broken out. He turns on his flashlight and takes a look inside. "Looks clear…"
He looks at her for some fucking reason so she just walks up and climbs through the window. She cuts her hand on the way in.
She sucks on the cut and surveys her surroundings. She's in a class room. Some of the desks are overturned but mostly it's pretty untouched. Everything is covered in dust. She walks over to the door and listens for a second, then opens it.
There's a hallway full of lockers running in both directions. It's dark, but light streams in from one end, where there are several doors with glass panels. She walks toward it. It's dead quiet.
When she gets there, she sees what she was afraid of. There's a fold up table with a couple chairs behind it, facing the entrance. There's a filing cabinet next to it. On top of the table is a little lockbox, some pencils, and a bunch of scattered papers. Everything is covered in dust.
"What is that?" Clint asks.
"A checkpoint," her voice is low and tired. "This is where you sign in and out."
"Everything is covered in dust."
No fucking shit. She looks at him and he goes quiet. She says it. "The Fireflies are long gone."
He takes a couple steady breaths and holsters his pistol. "From this place." He turns and starts looking around. After a few moments, Ellie follows suit.
The classrooms on the first floor are mostly unused. They were using the gym for storage. There are a bunch of familiar looking plastic bins and crates. There are some good pills and even some antibiotics. Other than that it's only useless stuff left.
On the second floor they start finding rooms they were using as offices. In one of them, they find four desks and a radio. Clint walks in right away and starts looking over papers and through drawers. Ellie walks over to one of the desks and picks up a piece of paper, blowing the dust off. It's a missive about them needing more nuts and washers. She lowers her arm and lets the paper fall to the ground.
They're not even here. Eddie died for no reason.
She starts crying again, softly at first.
"Ellie?"
She turns her back on him. He leaves her to it.
A little while later she wipes her face and walks over to the radio. The same manila folder is there. She opens it. A few pages deep she finds more frequencies.
"Ellie, we got lucky back there."
Stunned at first, she turns and gives him a look that makes some of the color drain from his face. He looks away for a second, embarrassed.
"Ellie, they could have shot you. They could have shot you in the head. They could have got me, too. And then…"
"Then at least Eddie would be alive."
"The fuck, Ellie?"
She reaches down and flicks on the battery cells. The green light comes on and she turns on the radio.
It's the same story as Grand Junction. She tries each frequency multiple times and no response. It's the middle of the day, someone should be responding. She feels really tired.
"Ellie." Clint speaks softly this time. She looks. He's standing by the door. Someone tacked a note to the wall. He beckons her. She walks over and reads it.
'To Who May be Concerned with the Fireflies,
'This station has been abandoned. The so-called Portland Vigilance has been circling for some time. If you ask me, we never should have made regional base in a metropolitan area, but that ship has long since sailed. We have reason to believe that they may finally have learned where we are, or may soon. We will be departing ex post haste in full force. 'Full force,' of thirty five men and women.
'We would have left soon, anyway. Essentially all quarters are struggling. Any military success we were hoping for is looking like a distant fantasy. But Grayson is in charge, after Andersen and Marlene, and he's as bad about the cure as any of them.'
Ellie stops reading, and her breath stills. They haven't given up. Or hadn't. There were only thirty five at the time this was written.
"I think I see that too, Ellie. Keep reading."
'He'll be recalling us to a new primary HQ, I'm almost sure of it. That has not been established yet, we will have to use the phone as we travel. Hopefully signal stays good and we don't have any malfunction, because we'll be fucked if we do. But I'm almost positive, due to the tech they've acquired, and the relative safety of the position, that we will soon have been recalled to Catalina anyway.'
She doesn't finish it. She drops her pack on a desk and digs through it until she finds the map of the US. She pores over California. She's not one hundred percent, but she's almost positive—
Her finger finds it. Off the coast, near LA. Not even a hundred miles from Santa Barbara.
"Ellie, there's more." Clint starts reading.
"I feel comfortable telling you this because if, God help you, you are looking for the Fireflies, that is where I recommend you go. And if you are with the PV, you will not give a fuck. You should know, it may not feel like it, but you are not alone. We would have died out a long time ago if we did not receive a steady trickle of new recruits, falling in from every God-forsaken corner of this country, hungry for a little bit of hope. So don't give up.
"We have good seacraft, but we are not leaving you any. Good luck finding a seaworthy vessel these days. Sorry, but we need them. I have to see to my troops first.
"And that's all I have for you. Thank God you have avoided the Portland Vigilance so far, if you have been so lucky. They, like many before them, began as a 'righteous' organization, committed to freeing their kin from the 'tyranny' of FEDRA. Nowadays, they seem to have no problem lying in wait about the city and waylaying hapless travelers. If you're to go overland, you have my sympathy and my blessing, whatever that is worth these days. Safe travels.
"Captain James Dunford."
Ellie's breaths are coming fast. This is real. It's still possible. It doesn't have to be over. Not yet.
"What do you think he was talking about? Phone? We have land lines in Jackson, but that's clearly not… I know Mackey got a couple of those old cell phones to turn on, but there's no signal for them to receive."
"Sat phone," says Ellie. "I saw them back in Boston." It's rare and useful tech that was never made in mass quantity. It would be very useful to an organization like the Fireflies.
"So we go to Catalina?" He's standing in the doorway, half turned to her. His pack, his axe, his holstered gun. He looks ready. She can see traces of concern on his forehead, though.
"We go to Catalina," Ellie replies.