Chapter Three: Strangers in the Night
Trekking along the beaten path, the first thing he would say with certainty about this place was its forlorn nostalgia.
Pittsburgh was, to say the least, an eventful series of twists, turns, and eventual return to the endless death that seemed to be the new norm for humanity. Broken buildings with discarded belongings. A hotel, with beds still made for guests. The associated basement of said hotel overflowing with runoff, along with the few unlucky to get trapped down there and never see sunlight again AFTER he fell down an elevator shaft. Fleeing down the hallway of said basement for his life after activating the generator and finding the keycard by sheer luck. Meeting the man who barely had a childhood, and the other boy with none whatsoever. More savage hunters, clinging around a refurbished Humvee. Then they passed through the sewers; remnants of people trying to build back what they lost, by the means available to them (American ingenuity, what a concept). Luckily, it was not all for naught, as they picked up a sawed-off along the way.
Reaching the neighborhood after almost kicking the bucket yet again in the sewers, the other man tried to find solace in old memories of a barbeque, and mentioned the sights, the smells. After the day was over, he described his dream of finding a Harley, and just riding, hearing the roar of the engine. He couldn't help but sympathize, albeit silently. They saw an ice cream truck in that neighborhood, for crying out loud! Of all the things to survive this damn world, the ice cream truck survived! He saw all kinds of flavors: mint, chocolate, Rocky Road, and a flavor he never heard of before, called "seasalt."
Who in almighty hell would want salty ice cream? he thought to himself, right before he almost met his daughter again with the help of the neighborhood's friendly sniper.
And to top it all off, though he would never admit it out loud, his new "partner" started to remind him of his beloved Sarah: sarcastic, foul-mouthed, yet full of light and an eagerness to see a world that was not in front of her. Making the best of a situation she could not control. Trying to push him outside his comfort zone.
But that all ended, very quickly, to something he should have seen coming. That boy, Sam, was bitten, so close to the finish line. Put down by his brother Henry after attacking his traveling companion; a gruesome, befitting death in this world he now calls normal. Kin kills kin. Weak links in the chain give way, and the rest fall soon thereafter. He would not call himself a poetic man, nor a visionary, nor a brutal dog of war. He did what needed to be done. Joel did as the situation commanded him. He killed as needed killing; he saved as needed saving; he did not need a friend, or someone to share camaraderie, or someone that reminded him of the beautiful girl he lost twenty years ago to the end of the world; he needed food, ammo, and above all, a spare brick or two. That was what the situation required. No feelings, no friends, no family needed. Therefore, no loss to endure.
He had enough of that already. He wondered if his brother Tommy felt the same.
He and his partner pushed past the ruins of the city via car, up through what of course remained of Youngstown, up the backroads towards Lake Erie. Quite a boring drive, really. Overgrown woodland aside, there weren't enough houses or remains of civilization to cause him concern; never mind the fact that he knew the area well. A much needed break in the action would do them good. He couldn't blame her for trying to rest up. They even had a near full tank of gas; he mentally thanked Bill for that funnel.
"Wake up," he said to his sleeping companion, nudging her shoulder to wake her up.
"….ugh. C'mon, Joel! Couldn't you let a traumatized teenager sleep for just another minute?" she muttered back to him, making now effort to show her irritation at him.
Again, couldn't blame her. It's only been about a day since Pittsburgh. Poor Sam is probably still fresh on her mind.
"I know, kid, but we're almost there," said Joel as he veered the car down the next road, seeing the sign 'Route 2.' "It will be worth the little detour."
Joel did not directly mention this to her, but it will also be a viable source of food that isn't from a can. Growing up in Texas with his father and brother he no stranger to hunting, foraging, and fishing. This area of Lake Erie, his friend told him years ago, was known for its fish. In the end, if he was being honest with himself, Joel was driving her here just so he wouldn't be forced to eat those goddamn kidney beans again.
"Okay," she reluctantly replied.
5 minutes later, they arrived at their destination.
The Headlands is a quaint little park. Part of what used to be America's North Coast, the old beach is relatively the same, with unkempt shrubbery, seagulls flying everywhere, and most distinctively, a rocky pathway lining the old breakwall leading to a white lighthouse, standing guard on the border of the water and shore. Joel drove his way down the car path, gazing between the lake and the abandoned salt mine to his right. Wanting to avoid the doubtless infected that roamed the old mine, he kept on driving until the piece of the park closest to the lighthouse.
"Joel, I know you're not the most artistic type, but why did you bring us to a beach, at twilight, and no food? Surely you don't expect to catch a damn buffet tonight."
Joel sighed, but lightly chuckled to himself, knowing he's about to prove her wrong.
"C'mon Ellie. Let's go to that lighthouse. I even have a pole for ya." He replied. "And I'll even make this interesting. First person to catch dinner gets the last can of the bacon."
Ellie's eyes lit up like a firework. "Give me that fishing pole."
The unlikely pair got out and followed the rocky path to the lighthouse. Standing before the big building, Joel noticed many examples of signs of this place being a popular hangout spot, signs letting him know his daughter would have enjoyed coming here: he noticed the sheer proximity of the water beneath their feet; the engravings on rock and stone of little hearts, initials, and strangely, little keys and other oddities. It was a curvy, challenging walk with the wind blowing in his hair, almost making him lose his balance; and the cream of the crop was the view. The whole lake by that point was a display of pink, blue and orange, lighting up the sky like Sarah's old art projects in school. He rounded the lighthouse, pole in hand, and cast into the wind.
"We're looking for a specific fish tonight, Ellie," said Joel. "These things grow up to 8 pounds and can feed you for days. Plus, they're fun to catch."
"I knew you came here for some bullshit reason. I don't even know how to fish! Or SWIM, in case you forgot!" she said with a mix of anxiety and sarcasm.
Joel again chuckled to himself. "I didn't forget, but trust me, when I catch one and you get to eat it after, you'll be begging me to catch more."
It didn't take long either. A large tug on the pole, a wrist flicked back into the air, and a heave later, Joel and Ellie were looking at a meal for the next three days. The threat of infected wasn't nearly as bad out here near the water as opposed to back by the truck in a wooded area, so they decided to set up camp near the lighthouse while the sun was still up. Forty minutes later amidst a starry sky, a fire, and a freshly caught dinner (with a side of bacon for himself), Joel was ready to call it a night.
But something nagged at Joel. He knew this feeling well and it was something not to be taken lightly. He glanced over towards Ellie, who instead of getting stones for the campfire, was staring absentmindedly at the sky.
"Joel, you ever wonder what stars actually are? Or how far they are from us? And why no fucking aliens haven't come and saved us yet from all of this, like in those comics I've been reading?" his traveling partner asked him, with genuine interest.
Joel thought about this for a moment. Normally he wasn't one to sugarcoat or elaborate on anything, but Ellie strangely didn't fight coming here. She didn't make a fuss about a new environment, she helped set up camp without complaint, or try to make fun of him and his probably rusty fishing pole. She didn't even make fun of him for probably not knowing the answer. He'd indulge this time.
"If you want the real technical answer, I ain't your guy," he started, "but I once heard a couple things. Before infected, before FEDRA and quarantine zones, I was told the stars are many things, but the most out-there answer was stars are other worlds. Like ours, but not. Or they're giant balls of gas giving off heat and energy. Pick your poison."
He neglected to tell her Sarah was the one who told him both of these things and left it at that. No need to draw upon any more painful memories. Joel brought his gaze back down to the ground, to reality. The nagging feeling of something being off still would not disappear.
Ellie snorted violently into a laughing fit. "Other worlds? Like OURS? That's crazy! Can you imagine other human beings that have never been here, but speaking English and killing runners just like us?" Ellie said in between bursts of more laughter. "Well, whatever it is, it won't help us get across the freaking country. Not even those shooting stars there."
"What shooting stars? Ellie are you messing with me again?" Joel deadpanned her as he closed his eyes in annoyance.
"No Joel, goddamnit, there's shooting stars! Big ones, too, and it looks like they're coming our way! Joel!"
Joel immediately got up and confirmed to himself that these things were the cause of that feeling. And the more he looked at these comets, the more off-putting it was. One was yellower, as one would expect, but the other was more like a purplish black, spinning in circles around the yellow one. And they seemed to be getting bigger, not smaller.
What?
"Ellie, those things are gonna crash into the beach. And they're gonna make noise. Whatever it is, we have to make sure the infected don't overtake the beach, or our food supply and our campfire, just like us, are dead in the water."
"Joel, if that is what you call a dad joke, I don't want to hear any more."
"I am trying to be serious right now, kid!"
"Okay, okay, let's go investigate-"
BOOM!
The "comets" crashed into the shallow water by the sand so loudly that Joel wondered if his eardrums ruptured. Since that day 20 years ago Joel could say he's seen and done many things. Some things mundane, some things terrifying, some things brutal. He's seen people kill their own relatives; he's seen Tommy work his "magic" with that rifle of his; he watched the truly last person in his life that he somewhat cared about sacrifice herself to ensure their escape from the military. But he can say he's never seen two comets crash land into a beach. That's new, even for him. As the sand settled, Joel couldn't believe his-
"Joel, are those fucking PEOPLE?" Ellie shouted in disbelief. "Or are those actual aliens?! Holy shit we'regonnagetsavedbyfuckingaliens-"
Ellie began a tirade and at the same time sprinted towards the crash site. Joel followed her and tried with all his might to believe what he was seeing: a boy and a girl actually just crash landed into the beach from the sky. HUMANS. FROM THE SKY. The girl was so pale that she seemed to match the simple white garment she was wearing; with a look of pure confusion and terror on her face, she stood frozen as she saw Ellie racing towards them. The boy, on the other hand, had the most aggressive, menacing glare Joel had ever seen. Ever. And those eyes. They were glowing a bright golden color, in contrast to the spiky hair, and the black and red whatever-he-was-wearing.
Am I finally losing it?
"Ellie stay back!" screamed Joel, pointing his revolver right at the newcomers. "Who are you? What the hell is going on here?"
The boy in black sneered in a gravelly, condescending voice. "Who are you, old man? Where even am I? This is the shittiest knockoff of the Dark Margin I have ever seen!" He then turned to the girl in white. "And why are you here, Princess? Shouldn't you be running around with the peanut gallery?"
The girl said nothing as she slowly took in her surroundings. Ellie, for her part, ran straight up to her and shook the girl's hand.
"So are you guys from space? What planet are you from? I'm Ellie, and this is my bodyguard, Joel. I boss him around."
"Bodyguard?" Joel scoffed, gun not wavering. Although if he was honest with himself, Joel was more concerned about how Ellie just ran up to two people who fell from the sky without flinching.
"I'm Naminé," said the girl. "I don't know how we ended up here. This is Vanitas, but I don't know how we managed to come together."
"Yeah, I'm out of here," said the boy dryly, apparently named Vanitas. The kid just walked away, back towards the same direction as the truck. Does he know about the infected? Can he defend himself?
Joel finally lowered the revolver. What does he care about some jackass kid that fell out of the sky with a girl as fleeting as a ghost? This is all a very, very lucid dream. The can of bacon is getting to him. Definitely.
"Do you mind telling me where we are, sir?" said Naminé, voice full of apprehension. "I need to find my friends."
"Yeah Joel, where exactly are we again? This wasn't exactly on the route to the west." said Ellie.
Joel turned away from them both, muttering, "I am dreaming. I need to wake up. Kids don't fall out of the sky. Kids don't have glowing eyes."
Ellie sighed from behind him. "Welcome to Lake Erie, I think. We're both heading west. But more importantly, where are YOU from? As rude as Joel is being right now, teenagers usually don't fly out of the sky around here."
Before Naminé could give an answer, she was interrupted by shouting. Terrified, manic shouting.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE THOSE THINGS?!"
Joel knew what was coming and cocked his revolver. "Ellie, go and grab your bag. We're leaving. Now."
Author's Notes:
Hello again! I am so sorry for the super long delay. Between making sure this chapter went the way I wanted it to, the holidays, yada yada, I couldn't finish within a decent timeframe. But this one was a chapter of concepts I've thought about for a long time, and screw it, I'm going for it. Canon and Disney deaths be damned. Vanitas' portrayal in this story is heavily inspired by Bommie20's re:Live re:Start. If you haven't read that one, PLEASE do so. Funniest KH fic on this site.
Anyway, thank you for the review, Vigriff. I'm a relatively new writer, and I hope I relatively improved scene transition in this chapter somewhat. I wish to improve with each chapter I write!
Feel free to leave a review and comment!
Ezekiel