A Matter of Time

by Ducibus

Meet me, fifteen years old and living in a cordyceps-raged era in a hydroelectric plant. Meet this auburn-haired chick with a unknown history who just arrived. Meet her guardian and mentor, the brother of one of the leaders of the dam. I'd say come and join us on this adventure...but you're already doing it.

5. Ellie's Badassery

"Attack?" I turn to face him incredulously, and Joel curses before getting onto his feet, "Maria, head back to your home. Now."

"I can help. What needs to be done?" I ask, determination suddenly grasping hold in my mind, standing up, and I'm almost reaching his shoulders with my height. Joel frowns, looking troubled at his decision to push me away, "This ain't a situation for kids. Go inside with Ellie."

That's futile, because I hear the front door slamming behind us with a tremble underneath our feet, and turn to face Ellie as she questions Joel, "Attack?"

Joel nods, bringing a hand up to his chin with his eyes looking cloudy, and Ellie runs back inside to grab something. Then Joel lays a hand on my shoulder, his eyes pleading almost, "Just head home, Maria."

I shrug out of his grasp, and as Ellie comes back outside with another jolting door slam, "Ellie, lead Maria back home. I'm gonna go head to the towers."

Joel pauses, opening his mouth as if to say more, but thinks better of it and sprints away. Ellie comes by my side as we watch him go.

"Doesn't he need his guns?" I ask, thinking about methods of fighting, and in a few seconds Joel reappears, racing up the steps and back into the house, "Forgot my pack."

We watch him leave once more, and then Ellie cocks her head at me, her face poker-ready, "Do you really want to go home?"

I shake my head, getting that determined feeling again, "No way."

You can't shoot a gun for squat. I think back to myself, but quickly shove it back down to the depths of my mind. Ellie nods, and then hands me a small pistol after a moment's hesitation,

"Here. It should do the trick."

"Thanks." I say, pulling the cool metal back and checking to see the bullet count. Five bullets, like little eggs in a nest. Translating into five lives.

And then Ellie races off, taking my wrist and hauling me along as we sprint to the towers and the entrance. My heart pounds in my chest and I feel the bloods ricocheting around in my brain, mouth suddenly turning dry as the situation's reality comes crashing down.

We run by graphic scenes the closer we get to the power plant, bodies suddenly cropping up, spurts of blood following instantly after a crack of a gun shot. I won't describe them, because I'll prefer not to spread nightmares. They make me sick to my stomach, fear telling off the experience of all the other dead I had once seen in my travels.

Ellie and I head to the powerplant, where the bandits typically come for a shot at taking over the electricity source. Tommy had stabilized it with other men a few months back, given the struggling mess it was beforehand, and the bandits are drawn to it like moths to a flame. Security's tighter now, and I remember being interrogated a while back, making sure my mom and brother weren't about to try and take over.

I let my thoughts dispel as I bring myself back to living in the now, the reality we're in and facing, and as we climb the rickety steps, "Ell—!"

My voice is caught off in a chokehold, and my face feels hot in the struggle. I try to bring up my arms, to try and get a shot at wrenching his arm away, but without that delicate balance of oxygen going through me, it's futile. Ellie turns to face me, and I know her mind is racing, trained to see the situation and solve it like how we were taught on the run, "Your gun!"

But I can't muster the strength to get it from my pocket, making gargled noises as I fight to breath. Ellie gives something like a sigh, and I smell the sour breath radiating heat on me as I squirm and try to struggle away.

With something like a tired face, she lifts up her own pistol with two hands and pulls the trigger, and finally I can breathe easy. Blood coats the side of my face as the once-standing corpse drops dead at my feet, and I spit for a good measure.

"What the hell was that?!"

She's angry, fuming, and I see her lime eyes lighting up in rage. I get even, "Why didn't you shoot him in the first place?"

"Because…y'know what? I'm done. C'mon." She grabs my wrist and I worm free, not about to be lead around like a child from a person I basically tower over.

Tenseness is in the air, and Ellie and I run across the metal grates, which overlook the mess of fighting. I can't help my head turning, and watching the scene unfold with gunshots and cries piercing the once silent air. Every few seconds a flash from a gun goes off, and I remember my mom telling me as a small child fireworks, fireworks, they're just fighting with fireworks.

Still don't know what the hell fireworks are,

I think to myself, letting my mind's endless whirling take me away, my thoughts drifting aimlessly as I trail after Ellie, hearing the bullets and cries going off, off, off...but why can't I bring myself to shot the damn gun?

Ellie and I ram our shoulders into the door leading to the plant, taking a few steps inside. My ears hurt from all the garbled shouts and sparks rain down from the shaking lights as they clash against one another. I refuse the urge to put my hands over my ears and head to protect myself as time seems to slow down.

We run across the metal plates, feeling the tremors of fighting through the rubber soles of our shoes, sprinting for the stairs that lead to the headquarters. Our flight isn't conspicuous, and I can already sense the heads turning in our arrival, sparks bouncing around us like a flare saying something along the lines of hey, get yer asses over here.

"Run, run, run!" Ellie cries out, as if I need more encouraging. She turns the cool metal knob and we head into the headquarters, turning quick to instantly slam the door, locking it and hoping it stays. Ellie takes the gun out of my back pocket and steps away, leaving me as the weight, "Hey!"

She runs to the motherboard, flipping open the control box. I raise my eyebrows, "What are you doing?"

Turning and snapping switches on this way and that, Ellie seems completely in control, as if she's in her own little world. After a few good moments of silence and registering my question, she finally glances my way as if remembering that I'm here, "Tommy told me to shut off the power in these situations. So if those damn bandits do overrun us, they won't know the controls to press."

"Smart man." I mutter, and Ellie takes out a few booklets, ripping out a few pages (I suppose not at random), and stuffing them under her shirt. Then she tosses them back in the drawer, slamming it shut and syncing it with the sound of the men suddenly pounding at the door, screaming obscenities at us.

"Ellie..." My tone comes out as a whimper as the realization suddenly dawns on me that I'm the dam, holding back the water that's aching to drown us. Ellie roots through other drawers, and I press myself against the door. Being tall has its advantages, but even I know that it's only a matter of time.

She doesn't respond, doesn't say anything, and I can't help but tremble as the glass breaks above my head, sending shards raining on my neck and shoulders. I bow my head, but I feel the cool barrel of a gun pressing into the soft flesh of the bump connecting my cranium to my spine, "Make a move and you're f—king dead!"

He grabs my collar, hauling me back against the metal door and slamming my spine into it, sending more shards slipping around me. I feel the crunch under the wore toes of my sneakers, and I try so hard to breathe faced against the fabric tight around my nek.

"You! You little girl! Stay right there!" The man barks, and I have a feeling he's been elected leader from the pack hungry to invade the headquarters. Ellie turns innocently, managing another excellent poker face, "Oh, me?"

"Yes, you." He growls menacingly, and I hear the shards clinking as he runs his arm over the rough shards and cursing as they cut his jacket. I feel the sharp edges digging into the back of my neck, and I can barely keep myself calm, knowing if I pull anything he'll pull the trigger or slice my neck on whatever glass remains from the window.

I see the gun move into my vision, his rough knuckles pressing at my neck as his fingers continue curling into the fabric of my shirt. He holds the gun out in front of me, pointing it directly at Ellie, "You stay still, you little shit."

I can see his hand tremble, fighting to keep the balance of letting his finger rest on the trigger while the others stay on the handle. The trembling is from ferocity, anger, a hunger at keeping power by letting the barrel point to me or her.

Ellie only chuckles and walks the length of the room, moving her hands over the edges of the tables and chairs where she had once sat and talked about playing 'Triple Phoenix'...a moment that seems so far from where we are now. The gun shakes in view, and the man's voice again, "What did I tell you, damnit!"

His voice rises, and Ellie finally looks up, her green eyes glinting dangerously, "They say a man is only worth half the shits of the promises and threats he makes...if that's true...than you are off to an awful start."

My neck scrapes against the glass as I'm pulled up, balancing on the tips of my toes to breathe. I let something out like a gasp, maybe a warning for Ellie, my face feeling hot with no air, like get the hell on with it, you ass!

Ellie gives me a look, hard to read with her lime eyes turning murky all of a sudden, and in a nod so slight and so hard to pick up I understand that she knows what she's doing.

Then in movements so quick, she picks up a spare pipe and sprints, the gun trembles in front of my vision and I'm pulled back into the window and I'm crying out as Ellie finally gets close enough, closing the distance and gripping the pipe so tight until she's finally connecting it with his head with such ferocity as she cries out, "Chickenshit!"

The grip releases from my shirt, and I go down on the glass. Ellie breathes hard, then slinks down to meet me at arm level, "You alright?"

I gulp for air but nod, feeling the heat on my face now after all that time struggling to breathe. Ellie pauses, glancing at her shoes, and then we hear a click from the lock at the door, "Oh, shit."

Nothing like before as crap hits the fan and the door goes flying back, giving me enough time to scramble away on shards of glass digging into the soft flesh of my palms and tearing them. The wooden door catches on my ankle and I bite my lip, tasting blood as tears threaten to spill out from the corners of my eyes, pain suddenly erupting as the cool air comes onto the open wound.

Four bandits enter the room, guns loaded, cocked and ready, their faces dirty and drawn as if they're just as tired of fighting as we are (okay, shut up, I know I've been choking and all, but I'm assuming all of Ellie's badassery applies to both of us).

They don't notice us in the corner, surveying the area and the control panel, the papers scattered around, and then Ellie makes a move on glass that clinks and it all goes down.

Instantly four guns are trained on us, one of them speaking up in a raspy voice, "Who're you?"

"Gotta be someone's kids. Good for ransom." One says, the two exchanging a nod for having the same sick ideas, and then Ellie speaks up, in a voice that slowly lowers as she goes on, "We're no one's kids."

"Maybe you know the control box, huh?" Raspy-Voice goes on, and Ellie glances over, as if finally taking note of what they're going for, then shrugs, "If a kid like me can control it, how come four grown men can't?"

Before her or I can react two of the goonies grab her by the crook of her elbow and shoves her up against the wall as she kicks and struggles, "Let go!"

Raspy-Voice and his other friend come over to me, "I'm guessing you're not going to be such a smartass as your friend. C'mon, now. Get up."

Raspy-Voice grabs my elbow, pulling me out of the shards as they dribble off of me like water. I give out a cry to my ankle as it pulls free, but I'm in too much shock to feel the pain.

I feel the slickness of my hands from the blood, and Raspy-Voice shoves me to the box, "Kid, let's go. Gotta be as smart as your accomplice says, right?"

So there I am, sweating and wiping my bloody hands on the sides of my pants, knowing this is way worse than when one of your professors calls on you unexpectedly and you know you're so screwed...I try to remember what Ellie pushed and pulled and flipped and switched, stalling for as long as I can until I finally raise my hands to the control box, fingers trembling—"Maria!"

"Shut up!" One of them roars, giving her a knee to the stomach. She gives something like a gasp for his effort, but it doesn't mask the crinkling of paper.

"Hold her." Raspy-Voice shoves me to his other friend, who takes my wrists and pulls them behind my back, squeezing them as if taunting and saying Don't screw up...you have no idea what I'm capable of.

"What do we have here, huh?" Raspy-Voice croons, and Ellie grits her teeth, staring him down despite her height, "Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like it, little one." He says, and something else flashes in Ellie's face as he pulls up her shirt in one swift movement, the papers scattering across the floor. I see her stomach already growing red from the kick, and she looks...helpless, gazing back up at his face, like a child caught stealing an extra ration card.

The perfect setup, I think, not about to threaten the situation with a smile across my face. Raspy-Voice gives her a look of disgust, giving a knee to the stomach and smirking as she doubles over.

As he comes back to me, papers in hand, the confidence is suddenly out from before, and fear digs its way out from the depths of my mind where I shoved it beforehand.

"Now you have the instructions. No excuses." He shoves the papers to my chest as my wrists as freed, and I resist the urge to bitch-slap him across the face as a smugness descends onto his face.

I glance down at the papers, ears buzzing, raising a trembling hand, fingers almost closing in on themselves as I bring them closer to the panel, and then I hear a sort of snap, like the inevitable crack of a gunshot echoing in the small space.

Ellie wrenches her elbow free from the one guard who cries out in pain, obviously the gunshot inflicted on him in some way, before training her eyes on the other guard and shooting him straight in the neck. He falls to the ground, letting loose gargles as he chokes on his own blood, and she finishes the job on the one who's still going a wound to the foot.

"Stay the f—k away from her." Ellie says, her voice an odd mixture of confidence and coolness, completely in control once more as she turns to face us with the barrel, finger slowly coming to rest on the trigger. I recognize with a start that it's the gun she let me...ah, borrow.

Raspy-Voice chuckles, then croons as he suddenly pulls the gun off from the strap around his middle, "I don't think you're at liberty to say that, little one."

With reflexives quick, she turns to face the accomplice, and he quickly grabs me as a shield, but a second too late as Ellie pulls back the trigger and I go down once more. Raspy-Voice looks up in surprise, and Ellie manages to show her smirking face to me with a smug tone, "Sweet dreams, creep."

With a gunshot to boot, she steps over Raspy-Voice, pulling me up from when I went down with his friend, "You alright?"

I can't stop shaking, and Ellie and I take a step around their bodies, "Shit!"

I collapse with my ankle, the adrenaline and shock fading away and leaving me to feel it throb as I see where the skin peeled back and torn to the door attack. It's already growing red, and I don't know if it's sprained or broken or what.

Maybe it's my ankle that gets me going, or something more, but I can't help a tear from coming down my face. I hide it from Ellie as best I can, until she finally crouches down beside me and gives me a weak smile, "Hurts like a sonuvabitch, I guess. "

I give a shrug, a smile as watery as the tear coming out of my eye, and Ellie wraps her arms around me, giving me a hug, "It was pretty scary, huh?"

I nod into her shoulder, then I pull away from her embrace, wiping my eyes, "Damn, I am so...useless."

"Can't argue with that." Ellie retaliates, and I give her a shove as she laughs. It feels weird to be sitting in a room where four fresh corpses are festering, but I can't move with my ankle.

"So, you can't shoot a gun, you can't ride horses...damnit, Maria, what the hell am I gonna do?"

I can tell she's teasing and I smile for real, and then, "Are you ever going to pull your shirt down?"

She blinks in surprise, glancing down at her belly button before taking the fabric and covering it, "Wow...then. I really need to tan, don't I?"

"Didn't those kicks hurt?" I go on, curious as I recall her face contorting in pain, and Ellie grins, shrugging, "They hurt like a slap, or a rug-burn. Man, I hate those."

Our peace only lasts for a second before Joel and Tommy burst through the door, "What the hell—Ellie!"

His tone is first surprise as he looms over us, then quickly fades to anger as I see him clenching his teeth. Tommy follows, and proceeds to whistle, "You certainly did one helluva job, girls."

"I told you to bring her home." Joel goes on in a cold tone, and Ellie narrows her eyebrows, her words like venom, "Big deal. I lied, Joel. Like so many of us."

I see something microscopic in his position change, a flash of something else in his eyes, but he quickly smoothes it over, "What'd you do?"

"What Tommy told me to." She goes on, and Tommy crosses over the bodies of the bandits, observing the control box, "Well, you sure remembered it well."

He clicks and flips more of the switches and then presses his palm on a flat button on the bottom. The lights stay on in the plant, and I hear the engines grinding as they start up again.

"Oh, almost forgot." Ellie grabs the papers from the floor and hands them to him, "Here. I'm thinking about hiding them somewhere else. Bandits heard them when they gave me a knee to the gut."

Tommy takes them from her, closing them back into the drawer before turning and walking back to us to loom like Joel does already. I suddenly feel very, very small under their withering gazes.

"Let's get on outta here, Ellie. I got half a mind to really tell you off." Joel growls, and Ellie blows a raspberry. She rises, and then offers her arm to me. I forget momentarily about my ankle, but as soon as I roll onto my feet, "Ah...ow, ow, ow!"

"Oh, damn. Here." She lets me loop an arm around her shoulders, and Tommy eyes us, "What happened?"

"Don't know." Ellie replies over her shoulder, and Joel comes to my other side, looping my arm over his shoulder and holding it tight, "Let's have the doc take a look at it."

So we walk away, leaving five bandits dead, a few books ruined, and six well used bullets.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)
"Alright, set her down easy. Easy...easy...good." Dr. Mundell directs as Ellie and Joel help me hobble into one of the beds in the medical building. That sounds way more professional than it really is. The hospital is small, with a few separate rooms and limited supplies.

The bed is lumpy underneath its standard fleece blanket, and Dr. Mundell takes a seat in a spinning office chair, rolling over to where I am, "What seems to be the problem?"

"Uh...my ankle." I reply back, and he nods and rolls down to where my ankle rests on the bed. With quick and nimble fingers, he unties my shoe and then glances back at me, "I'm just going to try and slip it off, alright? Breathe easy now...it may hurt. But don't move your foot."

I nod and suck in a raspy breath as he grips the heel and attempts to pull it off, sending a wave of pain up my leg. My fingers tremble and I place them in the fleece, curling them around in the fabric. I shake with the desire to move, to disperse the pain, to try and do something than just sit there and let it envelope me.

I bring my hands back, seeing the blood and slices, "Also...my hands. Hands are hurting, too."

Dr. Mundell eyes them as I hold them out, palms flat, and then takes a damp rag and wipes them down. I try not to wince, and he gets a better look at the cuts, "Not too deep...no glass from what I can see. Keep them wrapped, though."

He spreads some sort of paste over them and then wraps them with white tape, tearing it off and smoothing the excess over my palms.

"I look like a badass with my hands like this." I say, grinning up at Joel and Ellie. Ellie gives a grin while Joel gives something like a scoff and glances around.

"One, two, three...okay." The shoes wrenches free and I suck in a quick breath. Dr. Mundell holds it up, and I can't help myself from cracking my toes, "Sorry."

He gives me a look, and then Tommy pipes up, "Doesn't that cause arthritis?"

"No, Thomas. It is the air bubbles in the joints snapping." Dr. Mundell corrects, and he turns back to give a look to me, "I'm going to feel for loose bones, alright? This may hurt a bit."

Everything you do 'may hurt a bit'. I think, but don't say anything. Dr. Mundell presses on my ankle, declares it simply sprained and/or chipped, wraps it with gauze and tape and then straps a rag filled with ice to it, "Keep off as much as you can, alright?"

I nod, and then he returns with a pair of crutches, my ankle hurting more after the diagnosis, "These could be the only in town. Your ankle should be healed up soon, and when it is, it would be wonderful if you could return with these."

"Got it." I reply back, tossing my spare shoe and sock into my drawstring and leaning heavily on Ellie to get up from the bed. Dr. Mundell hands me the crutches and I slide them under my shoulders, getting used to the feel of my hands on the hollow aluminum before turning back to face everyone, "My mom's probably freaking out right now. Thank you, Dr. Mundell, for looking at my ankle."

He returns my wave, and then raises an eyebrow at me, "Keep it iced, Mo. Best way for it to heal."

"Thanks, Doc." Joel says casually, holding the door open for me. We don't even get a solid five feet out the door before Ellie goes, "Can I try those?"

"Ellie..." Joel begins in a grave tone, and I shrug, sliding them out from my armpits and handing them to her, "Sure."

I hobble along, Joel and Tommy taking pity on me and letting me walk between them. Ellie has fun pretending to be an athlete, pushing herself great distances in the cool hallway, "Yah!"

She finally returns them back to me, grinning, "They're fun."

"Wish you had a pair?" Joel teases, ruffing her hair, and Ellie sticks out her tongue, "Hell no. I'll just steal...what was the name Doc gave you?"

"Mo." I reply back, and Ellie shrugs, "I'll just steal Mo's pair."

"Where the hell did he get that name from?" I ask, glancing between Joel and Tommy's faces. Tommy shrugs, "Hell if I know."

They walk behind me and Ellie, and at a safe distance away, "Thanks for, uh, saving my ass back there."

Ellie's quiet, just soaking in my words, before finally grinning and turning to face me with one hand cupped around her ear, "Excuse me, what was that? Please repeat."

I shove her as she laughs, grinning myself. And as we exit the hospital, envelope in the golden light from the sunset, I wish for two things: for Mom not to kill me when I get home, and to steal back the xBox to play Triple Phoenix with Ellie and Mikey.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)
"Why does the word 'underwear' sound fine, but the word 'panties' sound so...kinky?"

I present to you day one of me being MIA...or, I suppose, OOA(out-of-action). Ellie had come over in the morning, and the two of us had been sitting around awkwardly until I asked the said question stated above.

Ellie gives me a look, "Are you really asking me this question?"

I nod, and she pauses, obviously thinking hard. Then she shrugs, twisting her mouth to the peculiar little smile she often bears, "I suppose it depends on what comes to mind first. Without thinking, I usually say 'underwear'."

"Why isn't there a kinky way of say 'socks'?" I go on, curious, and Ellie groans, burying her head in her hands, "You have way too much time to think about things."

"I'm serious. There is legitimately no kinky way of saying 'socks'." I say, and then continue, "You can't say the word 'socks' in a kinky manner."

"Why do you even want to say socks in a kinky manner?" Ellie asks, raising her eyebrows at me, and I shrug, "I think if underwear can go sexy by calling it 'panties', then socks should have the same change."

"Panty-hose?" Ellie offers weakly, and I shrug, "I guess that'll have to do for now."

But I can't let it go, "We should find a kinky way to say socks."

Ellie groans and I grin. Then she leans back, putting her feet up on the worn crate-that-serves-as-a-coffee-table, "Sweet digs you got here. Especially the ping-pong table."

"We don't have paddles or balls...but...yeah. Nice feature. I'm going to kick your butt at it when I can actually walk again." I say, and Ellie whistles, letting her head loll back and eyeing the ceiling, "When I came here last year, Tommy was struggling with power."

"Progress. It took them a while to repair some of the engines, and a few good rainstorms." I'm just repeating what I once heard the other Maria say.

Awkward silence, and then Ellie slips something out of her pocket and holds it out to me, "Think your brother's friend can fix this?"

It's a Sony Walkman. I've seen a few...crushed and definitely not worth recognizing, but this one doesn't look too bad.

I take it from her, observing the earbuds that come along with it and giving her a look back, "Really? You couldn't've untangled them?"

She laughs at this, and I smile.

I untangle the white wires and then glance at the Walkman, popping open the spot for cassettes and glancing at her, "Give me the diagnosis, Ellie."

"It clicks a lot. And...it skips on a lot of songs." Ellie goes on, and I shake it, trying to hear for looseness in parts. Nothing too bad, but there is a clinking.

"How're your batteries?" I ask, and she gives a shrug, "Dead, probably."

"That could be one aspect of it." I say, and then go on, "I'll have my brother's friend take a look at it when he comes back here."

I let it flop on the couch cushions, feeling tired. Personally, I prefer having a physical injury than a cold...or being infected. Just puts everything in perspective, doesn't it?

"Why didn't you shoot that guy yesterday?" Ellie asks, her tone simple curiosity. I scratch the back of my head, deliberately avoiding her eyes, "I couldn't reach it, remember?"

Ellie eyes me, her green eyes suddenly chilling my mind like ice, "Maria."

"Yeeesss?" I stretch out the word, letting my eyes dance away from her gaze and wander across the room. Ellie grabs my shoulder, reining me in, "Hey. Focus."

"What? I told you the truth." Lying through my teeth. I think, almost laughing. Ellie's face is hard to read, but finally she relents and leans back once more. Or at least she makes the motion to. With quick actions, she takes Felix out of my pocket, grabs my crutches, and leaps up.

"Hey!" I cry out, then I let myself laugh. Ellie gives a smug grin, holding out the crutches while scrolling through the playlist of Felix, "You want your thing back, you tell me the truth."

"You're really going to torture your friend while she's down?" I try to build up my case, but I only settle into the couch a bit deeper, "Mmm...I'm comfy right now."

Ellie shrugs, making as if she's to leave the room with both of the items, "Wait...!"

Turning, she faces me over her shoulder, "Yes?"

"I..." I can't even bring myself to say it, a fear that seems so petty after seeing her in action with a gun. My face feels hot and I lean over my knees, propped up on my elbows and twiddling my thumbs, "I can't shoot a gun."

I don't bring myself to say anything, and then Ellie laughs. She laughs. At me? Heat courses through my veins, from embarrassment or anger I can't tell yet, and I look up at her as she laughs.

"That's it? You couldn't shoot because you can't?" She's downright jolly, and it pisses me off. I narrow my eyes, "What?"

"Because you act like it's some big thing." She flops down beside me, leaning the crutches against the wall and tossing Felix back to me. I can't help but shrug, "I can't handle a gun. I can't shoot for some reason."

Someone opened the frickin' floodgates, I think as I go on, "I don't know why, but it drives me up wall. Maybe there's something tied to me and guns. The closest I've ever gotten is Mikey's airsoft pistol."

Ellie doesn't laugh anymore as I finish, and finally I sigh and turn back to face her, "I am useless in this apocalypse."