A/N: yes, yes, I know. I've been busy with various activities though, and neglected my poor fans. I apologize. Hopeful this little gem will quench your thirst.
It's actually kinda different from the previous drabbles. An alternative if you will.
Alternative: another possibility, something else.
Ellie stepped out of the barn and stared down at the buck in disbelief. How the hell it had taken so many arrows she'd never know. She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
As Ellie lowered the bow, a man stepped out from around the corner.
All she saw was a rifle slung over his shoulder.
Thinking quickly, the redhead lodged an arrow between the man's eyes.
"Oh, shit!" Cried another guy as he fumbled for his gun. Ellie took him out too.
The teen cautiously edged towards the dead men. Their clouded eyes stared into nothingness and blood poured out of the wounds. She did a hasty pat down, searching for anything useful. In a hidden pocket on the first man, she found a pistol and a scrap of paper.
It was a list, like the one Joel had found back in Pittsburg. The list described the pounds of meat they'd hauled in. Doing a little math in her head, Ellie concluded that there wasn't enough animals out here for that much meat. Which meant they'd found other sources of food.
Grimacing and fighting to keep what little food she had down, she shoved the paper in the snow.
"That could've ended badly," Ellie muttered to herself. She moved on to the second man.
After a minutes worth of rummaging in his pockets, she hit something cold and glassy. The label was faded but readable. Luck was on her side today. It turned out to be a small vial of penicillin.
Ellie clutched the medicine to her chest, silently thanking whoever was responsible for her luck.
"Hang in there, Joel. I'm on my way."
With that, the girl tied a rope to the deers antlers and began to haul him the long way back.
It took about an hour to reach Callus. She had plenty of time to think.
Joel was getting worse. He had been doing pretty well with the medical supplies she'd savaged, but it wouldn't last forever. Two days ago, the painkillers ran out.
Since then, he had progressively gotten sicker. The night terrors came back, causing him to twist in his sleep and nearly rip the stitches out. Joel would come around for a few moments at a time, but those were horror to watch. He screamed in pain, pleading for relief.
It was pure torture.
Ellie was also running out of ammo. The infected drifted around, she took out the ones that came too close, and that depleted her supply. There was a couple pistol bullets left in her pocket, and maybe ten arrows, but that was it. Supplies needed to be gathered. She was hesitant to leave Joel's side however. It had taken nearly all her will power this morning to force herself into hunting.
Ellie wondered what Joel would do if she was the one who fell. If she didn't die as soon as the steel rod pierced her stomach, she figured Joel would scoop her up, storm them out of there in a hail of bullets, then miraculously save her with nothing but a bottle of Bourbon, some stitching, and a washcloth.
Her heart ached with a feeling she'd yet to identify. Something like loneliness, but there was bit more to it.
She thought about the men she'd just killed. There had to have been more were they came from. She would have to be more careful.
Ellie was so deep in thought, she almost ran into her horse. He gave an annoyed snort.
"Sorry, Callus."
She tied the rope end she'd been holding to the saddle, and mounted.
"Let's go," Ellie whispered. Callus trotted at a relatively fast rate. As an afterthought, she stuck to the river on the way back. Prints couldn't be made on the ice.
They made it back to the town she'd stowed away in. There was no river that ran to the house Joel was in, so she had to steer Callus to the snow and hope nobody would find them.
She stopped Callus at a garage, dismounted, and flung open the door. Ellie's numb fingers grasped the bottle and she mentally kicked herself for being so thoughtless.
"I need a syringe," she mumbled to no one. Maybe she'd begun to lose her mind with out a sufficient companion to talk to. Horses don't exactly respond. Then again, neither did Joel at times.
Ellie searched the bathroom for a syringe, praying luck would still be on her side. It was. In the middle drawer, laid a syringe.
"Yes!" She cheered quietly. Rushing back to Joel's side, she dipped the syringe in alcohol. Then she plunged the needle into the penicillin. Joel groaned in his sleep as she shot him with the antibiotics.
Ellie discarded the medical supplies and laid down next to Joel. She placed her hand over his heart. The steady pounding reassured her he wasn't leaving her anytime soon.
"You're going to be okay, Joel. You have to be."
I didn't turn this into a full story as I couldn't figure out how to go about extending it into something else. I'm sure you brainiacs will think of something I missed.
As I am running low on ideas, curse you imagination, feel free to PM with your ideas. (Full credit to you of course!) I'd love to hear them.