A/N: Okay guys, this chapter is kinda unique compared to others. It's a flashback chapter, but with two kinds of flashbacks. We see the aftermath of Tom's death and Ben's return from Seattle. It's not that vividly described and I plan to keep it that way. I like to leave sine ambiguous stuff for you to think about.

Second thing I want to mention is that I regret not writing this chapter sooner. I'll leave it like this for a few days, after which I'll probably push it back to place it between chapters 25 and 26.

Anyways, I'm proud to have completed 4 flashback chapters I initially planned. If you were paying attention you'd see that we see one season in every flashback. We start with spring when Ben met Ellie. Then we have summer flashback, autumn one when Tom died and finally, winter flashback when we see Ben in his worst mental state so far. It's kinda symbolic, just how I wanted it to be.

Enjoy!


Chapter 28 – Twisted

Ben curled up in the dark under the trees. He stared at the muscular black dog as it approached his dark shelter. The fingernails that had not yet healed properly burned painfully, but he paid no attention to it. There was hardly enough moonlight to distinguish a dog, tall to the grown man's waist, with a muscular neck and a large head. Its teeth gleamed like wet silver in the dark. Smelling the air, the dog walked towards Ben.

Closer, Ben thought. Come closer. There will be no warnings from your master this time. Closer. That's right. The dog, now only ten paces away, growled and suddenly ran. Right at him.

Ben was filled with hatred. The knife flashed from his outstretched fist towards the beast. The paws of the hunting dog hit him in the face the moment the knife pierced the animal's head, staggering him. With a dull sound, the corpse fell on the grass, and Ben collapsed at the nearest tree. The tree bark scratched his face. He was shaking with relief and quiet laughter. I did it. I did it! It wasn't always like that. There were other dogs that night. That night and the previous ones.

The desire to kill, mixed with fear and the smell of blood, aroused longing in him, but his stomach still turned over with nausea. He wanted to vomit. Despite the cold wind, his face was drenched in sweat, and he felt a sick taste in his mouth. He wanted to lie down and die. He wanted Emily to do something to heal him, or even Annabel to inject him with that strange substance that made him immune to pain - what she did after every night of torture - or ... something, anything. Just to make that feeling of sickness stop choking him.

Reluctantly, infinitely slowly, he got up from the grass, leaning against a tree. His body was streaked with new wounds, both from humans and animals. The night became washed away. The shadows lost their sharp overflows and merged into each other.

In the distance, somewhere in the west, a dog was howling with a trembling cry in the quiet night. Ben raised his head. He stared in that direction, as if he could see the dog in the dark if he tried hard enough. The second dog answered the first, then another, then another together. They were all spread out somewhere west of him.

A faint smile flickered on his face. He knew there were many more. The whole hunting party, whatever's left of the Washington Liberation Front. Connor and his men who did not take part in the final battle.

"Hunt me." he hissed. "If you want, hunt me. I'm not an easy prey. Not anymore!"

Pushing himself away from the tree, he ran over a shallow icy stream, and then ran east. His shoes were full of icy water, his whole body was burning, but he didn't even pay attention. The night fell silent behind him, but he paid no attention to it either. Hunt me. I can hunt too. I'm not an easy prey.

x

"Are you even listening?" Emily hissed. When Ben remained quiet, she threw a plate across the room. The porcelain broke upon the impact with the wall. "I can't believe this shit."

Ben sat in the armchair, staring at the wall right in front of him as Emily vented at him. He hated her for it, but one part of him knew she was right. He was to blame for the death of their brother, only he and no one else. She specifically told him that day not to take him deep into the woods, but he didn't listen to her. Because of his defiance, Tom was dead. Just because of him and no one else. She tried speaking to him that morning, but as always, he wasn't talking much. Ever since it happened, everything he did triggered her.

When she saw that he hadn't even looked at her, let alone said anything, Emily angrily ran out of the room and went outside, slamming the door so hard that Ben thought she had knocked them out of the hinges. I can't either, he thought, hugging his knees tighter. Tears stung his eyes, so he wiped them away angrily. He did not cry on the day of the funeral. He just couldn't, he was still in shock. Since the funeral, he hasn't spoken to anyone but Emily, yet even those words could be counted with the fingers of one hand. Ellie tried a few times to catch him alone to tell him something, but he avoided her.

He was annoyed by the heat that warmed the room. It annoyed him that he felt nice because of that heat. Tom doesn't feel nice six feet underground, he thought and got up, putting on his jacket.

Light snow marked the beginning of winter, bringing with it the cold that will reign for the next few months. Ben was ready for it, he had felt that coldness in him for days. He went to the cemetery and stood silently by Tom's grave. He knew he would spend a long time there, as he had in days gone by. And if Ellie comes again, he'll just turn around and cool her off. He didn't want to talk. And on top of that, she was with Cat now, so she wasn't alone when he didn't hang out with her.

If he was being honest with himself, he'd have to admit he missed her. And not just her, but his other friend Jesse too. He never had many friends other than the two of them, but it was his own fault. He was simply reserved, mostly keeping to himself, always of a suspicious nature since he had come to Jackson. Jesse and Ellie often called him to sneak out with them and the others outside, where they would find an old hut, light a fire, and spend the night there talking and playing board games.

He remembered one night last summer. Ellie persuaded him to sneak into a hut on the way to the dam one night. There were eight of them, and they were playing a game called 'spin the bottle'. A player spins the bottle, and must kiss the person to whom the bottle points when it stops spinning. When they kiss, a player the bottle pointed to spins the bottle again, and so on. He waited patiently for the bottle to point at him. Very beautiful girls played, including Ellie, Dina, and even Cat. Besides them, there were Julia and two others, and, of course, Jesse and Ben. He secretly wished Ellie would spin the bottle to point at him. However, the bottle seemed to deliberately miss him every time. Damn bottle even stopped spinning and pointed towards Jesse.

If Ben thought he was unlucky, then 'bad luck' was at its peak that night. The only time the bottle stopped spinning to point at him was when Jesse spun it. The frustration he felt at the time drove him almost insane. He gave up on the game and had to sit out for the rest of the evening while other girls laughed at him.

That memory of his innocence elicited a faint smile on his face. However, it disappeared just as it appeared, in an instant. When he heard footsteps approaching him, he turned to leave, but stopped when he saw Joel standing in front of him.

Ben looked at the man who was like a father to Ellie. Taller than Ben, with broad shoulders and strong arms, which could even be seen under the brown jacket he was wearing. The black hair and the beard were streaked with grays, and the face wrinkled, but Joel still looked at the peak of his strength. He wasn't the man to mess with, but he still saved Ben's life when he found him and his siblings two years ago.

Ben last saw him at the funeral. Ever since then, he has hardly left the house except when he went to the cemetery. He kept wondering what was Joel doing there, since no one in his family was buried there.

"Hey, kid." Joel said, his forehead wrinkling up as he looked at him up and down. If Ben looked at his eyes, he could recognize the pity in the old man's eyes. But the pity was not something he wanted or asked for.

"Joel."

Older man sighed, "How you holdin' up, son?"

Ben shrugged, trying to keep his calm composure. It was hard to stay there and talk, but it was even harder to walk away. "Okay, I guess. I don't know."

"Ellie told me what happened." his voice was sorrowful.

Ben smirked, "She told you what happened, eh? Did she tell you how I dragged Tom out there, how I told him to get in the barn where that stalker was just waiting for him?"

Before he realized, he was yelling. But Joel didn't even flinch nor move from his raised voice. Almost immediately, Ben regretted for raising his voice.

"Sorry."

Joel shook his head. "It's okay to be hurt. And, I'm sorry for your loss. Truly. But you shouldn't bang your head over it. It's not your fault."

It's not my fault? How the hell is it NOT my fault?!

"I know how it is." he started. "To lose someone you love, someone you were supposed to protect. It hurts, and it will hurt you for years to come. I can't say anything to make you feel better. No one can."

"So, why bother then? What's the point of all this?"

"Time, kid." Ben didn't remember the last time Joel called him by his name. It's most often kid and sometimes son when he was really serious. "Take your time. Grieve. Keep the memory of your brother alive."

Tears formed at the corner of Ben's eyes and he looked away, hoping Joel wouldn't see. "It's kinda hard, you know. I get it, it's my sin. But it isn't any easier when everyone looks at you with spite and disgust. Even my own sister."

"No. Not everyone." Joel replied, and Ben looked up at him, eyes hopeful. But Joel just smiled at him and patted his shoulder before walking away. "Take care, kid."

Ben stared at the older man's back as he left, leaving him alone in the cemetery. Joel was never very talkative, even when he taught Ben how to use weapons, smaller and bigger guns alike, which took Ben by surprise, forcing him to think about what the old man said. Joel was probably right. Ellie tried to talk to him several times, only he wouldn't let her. Maybe he shouldn't avoid her after all. But one look at his brother's grave was enough to remind him of the sin he had committed. The death he was guilty of.

x

Singing a melody softly, Ben stared at the campfire over which the rabbit was roasting, on a stick that stood leaning into the ground above the flames. The fire played with the night breeze. He barely noticed the smell of rabbit, yet for some reason, a thought came to him from somewhere that he could look for salt in the next town. He sang the tune every night since he escaped from Idaho while both the Wolves and the infected chased him.

How many days ago was that? Two or twenty days ago? Did the Wolves and the infected chase me together or not? Am I going insane already?

Sweat dripped down his face, but he continued to sing. Annabel said she ate her mother's heart, so her mother became a part of her. Forever. Ben didn't eat Annabel's heart, but he couldn't get rid of her. Neither her nor the child that watched him from the shadows of the night. It was always there. He could always see it out of the corner of his eye, but if he stared directly in that direction, he wouldn't see anything.

"Why don't you leave me alone? I just want to go home!"

You want something more.

Blood.

You want blood.

Blood.

"No."

He couldn't stop singing that tune. It reminded him of Ellie. He used to think that one day he would admit to her how he felt, regardless of whether she would return his feelings. That seemed so long ago. Ellie was lost to him now, even though he was going home. Or perhaps, he was lost to her. And to everyone else.

She's not for you.

And you're not for her either.

"Shut up."

You want something more. Much more.

Ellie came to him in dreams.

Maybe it was her. Her face. That was her face.

Only, there were so many familiar faces. He dreamed of his father, he saw a wound from a bite on his hand between his thumb and a point finger of his left hand. Emily cried over Tom's grave and screamed at him. Tom repeated the same question he had asked a million times in his head. "Is it raining, Ben?"

Annabel tormented him even in his dreams. One night he dreamed that Ellie came up to him to hug him. However, when she spread her arms, her face twisted and turned into Annabel's who tried to stab him in the back. He was careless, he let her approach him. And yet, he did not feel the need to stay vigilant and on guard. Ellie was like a cure for a grievous wound., even though Annabel was hiding behind her face.

And she tried to kill me! The quiet melody melted into an incoherent screech, and then went silent completely as the bushes nearby moved.

His hand instinctively reached for the machete stuck in his belt when he heard the echo of hooves, muffled by the soft ground and snow. The newcomer who stepped into the light of the fire certainly didn't seem threatening, but one could never be too careful. It was a girl, not older than him, with black hair tied in a ponytail. She was beautiful and blue-eyed. When she saw where Ben's hand was, she raised her hands as if surrendering.

"I'm coming in peace." she told him and slowly dismounted, holding the reins in one hand. "I do not want to hurt you."

Don't trust her.

She's not to be trusted.

Kill her!

He just watched her silently, ready to lunge at her at any moment. She wore the same clothes as the Wolves, but she didn't look like one of them. At least, there was no WLF patch on her sleeve. She had a knife and a pistol under her belt, but none in her hand.

"It's too late to hunt." she said, her stomach complaining loudly, and she blushed. "And as you can see, I'm pretty hungry."

Eat her heart!

Devour her!

She smiled nervously at him for the end, which added to her innocent face. A girl who traveled alone at night and approached him just like that. Something was wrong there. In response to what she said, he just nodded at the roasting rabbit.

She grinned and reached for the rabbit. Ben knew he wouldn't have a better chance. Not giving her time to recover, he jumped to his feet with a machete in full swing. The girl just managed to open her mouth in astonishment before he took her head off her shoulders in one clean swing. Blood spilled across the snow like red petals, forming a semicircle behind her corpse that collapsed to the ground. The head rolled a few steps away from the body, leaving a reddish-black trail in the snow. He stared blankly at the corpse as the fire in it subsided, suddenly trembling at the deed he had done.

If she found me, it means the others are close, the thought was his own.

He cursed before picking up the rest of his belongings, hurriedly extinguished the fire with snow and ran into the darkness.

x

Ben listened in silence to the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. He almost didn't feel the heat of the tea until the red-hot porcelain burned his palm and moaned, almost spilling it on the furniture. But he managed to put it on the table before he made a mess. Ellie grinned at him from across the table, sitting in her armchair.

"Sorry." he said hoarsely. That day she caught him on the way home from the cemetery and asked him to come to her to hang out a bit. He immediately remembered Joel's words from a few days ago, and that marked his decision. He was now in her house, on her couch, drinking her tea - or at least trying - and he was silent as if buried. It was quite awkward, and he realized that it had become very common lately. Ellie was still his best friend, but he felt that rift between them.

"So, Playstation?" she asked him with hope on her face, but Ben shook his head.

"Hmm. Monopoly, Catan, D&D?"

He shook his head again because he didn't want to play games. In fact, he didn't care. He regretted coming. And then, his lips twitched when he realized she had mentioned Dungeons & Dragons.

"Wait, did you mention D&D?"

"Yes."

"How would you play D&D for two?"

Ellie shrugged. "I don't know, I just mentioned it. You might want to play, so I could call Jesse and Dina."

"Don't call them. I don't want to hang out."

"Then why did you come?"

"I don't know. Looks like I shouldn't have."

He got up angrily and headed for the door, but Ellie stepped in front of him.

"No."

"Move."

"You're not going anywhere." she was determined when she said that. Ben thought he couldn't move her even if he was twice as strong.

"Ellie." his voice was serious and dark.

But the girl just shook her head. The ponytail swayed in harmony with the movements of the head.

"I'm telling you-"

"It's not your fault."

Anger boiled in him. "You said we wouldn't talk about him if I came here! You said!"

This was the first time he had yelled at her that he had even surprised himself. He didn't let it shake him though, so he tried to walk around her, only for her to stop him again.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Ellie, I'm serious. If you don't move-"

However, whatever he tried, he could not reach the door. He didn't want to push or hurt her, but he might be forced to do so if he wanted out.

"It's not your fault." her face was expressionless and her voice hard. She said it as if she were saying something quite ordinary as she drank a glass of water. Ellie leaned back against the door and the only thing left was to go through her.

Unseen rage awoke in him, and he hit the wall next to her head with his fist. The blow echoed through the small room, and he heard the cracking of bones, followed by pain that spread throughout his fist. He immediately regretted what he had done. But Ellie was still looking at him blankly, her voice becoming a whisper. "It's not your fault."

His jaw dropped in bewilderment, then he gritted his teeth as his eyes filled with tears. Why are you doing this? Why the hell are you doing this? I killed him! Why don't you just admit it to me?

Before he knew it, his head was on her shoulder. He wasn't much taller than her, but his head was still bent forward. She hugged him tightly. "It's not your fault."

He stayed with her all night after that. They talked and played games. Cat didn't come to disturb them, and at times he forgot about everything. The other Jackson residents shot him with accusatory glances. For everyone, Ben was an irresponsible kid who killed his brother with his carelessness. But not for Ellie.

Fist was burning with pain, Ellie gave him some to apply to it. Luckily, it seemed that the damage wasn't severe.

"I fucking won!" Ellie exclaimed triumphantly and lowered the joystick to the table. She beat him in basketball for the first time, but he didn't mind.

"Good game." he said and laughed weakly, and she stuck out her tongue when she thought he wasn't looking. Ben didn't want to admit that he lost just because he hurt his fist. His fingers simply couldn't move well. "You've gotten better."

"Of course." she said proudly and grinned.

He thought again and went back to everything that had bothered him since Tom died. Guilt. Irresponsibility. Death. Why? He wondered a hundred times. Why did Tom die and not him? He was innocent and kind and good, what kind of injustice was that? He was tired of it. He wanted something more from this world. Much more.

"Do you hate this world, Ellie?"

Ellie looked at him in astonishment. "Where did that come from?"

"Just answer me."

Ellie looked down, her eyes narrowing, as if remembering something. Something sad and tragic. "I do."

They were both quiet for a while.

"I hate this fucking world, and people in it. Some kill and enslave while others live in fear. If those fuckers aren't trouble, there are infected." she began, her voice gaining a serious tone to it. "If I run away… Run away as far as I can…"

Ben absorbed every word as if these were her last.

"If I run away to the other side of the world, then what's there? There's probably nothing there, right? No matter how far I go, it'd be the same as here. Just filled with killers, and infected. Right?"

The wind blew outside, rocking the trees and whistling between the houses. Ben stared at the fire in the fireplace, averting his gaze from Ellie who fell silent and hugged her knees tightly. An image appeared in his head. Father and him, by the fire in the woods. So long ago.

"Far away, somewhere across the sea, there is a land." he spoke with an expressionless face, just as his father had spoken to him that night. "It's warm. And fertile. A faraway land, where neither slavers, infected nor the flames of war reach. No one would be able to find you there."

Images of that fairy tale flashed in his head. Green and golden fields of grass and wheat, surrounded by mountains under a clear blue sky. People didn't kill each other, they didn't steal from each other. The infected didn't exist. There was just peace.

"Does such a place truly exist?"

Ben stared deeper into the fire, and had no answer to her question, even though he wanted to believe it with all his heart. His father told him a long time ago about that place, and how he would take him there one day. He felt a flame burning inside him. Why wouldn't such a place exist? Why should people kill each other when they can all live together in peace? He didn't even understand half of these things, but he understood one thing. He would fight for such a world, just like his father. That fight would be his redemption.

x

White snowflakes found their way through the debris in the walls, landing on the floor next to the wall that melted from white snowy to brown color of the old parquet. The last moan fell silent the moment Ben shot the Wolf in the head. He was the last of the company that followed him. Five Wolves have been following him for days since the night he beheaded that girl. If he picked up the pace, they would speed up too. And when he became aware that they would get to him before he reached Jackson, he decided that he'd be the one to choose the battleground. The old demolished multi-storey building served quite nicely. It had plenty of room to hide and set traps. He waited until dark and made them chase him all the way to that building. Nail bombs turned out to be especially useful. In the dark, Wolves didn't see the traps he had previously set up. After the traps did half the work, he finished the rest himself. It was a bloody spectacle that ended quickly.

The Wolves were unaware of what befell them until it was too late. He took advantage of the element of surprise and completely threw them off balance. It was important to mention that they rushed at him recklessly, which was crucial in their defeat.

Filled with the stench of blood and entrails, Ben watched the corpse of a man that stepped on the bomb that blew up his legs. The fool stumbled like a blind man, so focused on what was in front of him that he could not see what was below. The explosion threw him back all the way to the wall. Ben kept him alive, leaving him to struggle a bit to watch his friends get killed before firing the final bullet into his head.

A silhouette watched him from behind a corner. If he looked there, he would see nothing. But it was there, he knew it.

Ben looked away and lowered his gaze to the dark-haired girl's body some ten paces away. She was lying on her back, her eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling. Her clothes were stained with blood. Ben bent down to remove hair from her face. She's just a… child. A child!

The girl was barely fifteen. What was she doing with these fools? He suddenly lost control of himself. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her wildly.

"Breathe! You have to breathe!"

The already thickened and blackened blood flowed from the wounds on her chest, where he shot her twice in blood-crazed frenzy. "Live, damn you! Live!" Her glassy eyes stared at him silently. Lifeless. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I didn't mean to kill you! I didn't want to!"

Staring into those dead eyes, Ben let go slowly. The corpse fell stiffly to the floor. Le s. And then Ben threw his head back and roared wildly. He staggered away from the body. It was as if he was pushing a huge rock. Moving away from the girl's body was like giving up on life.

The night was young. It was still not midnight, and the only light in the night were the torches of the dead Wolves. They would have to serve, he thought as he gathered them, after having calmed down, intending to light a weak fire before sleep. Sleep. He shivered at the thought of it. He used to be comforted by dreams of a land to which his father was supposed to take him.

You lied, father. You didn't take me there. You lied!

He knew he would dream again tonight. But those wouldn't be the dreams that gave him comfort.

x