I failed all of you; I promised myself that I wouldn't be one of those authors who never update their stories. I thought I could be different but I was wrong. I'm sorry. Half of this chapter was written several months ago, half of it was not. Please enjoy.

"Alright, can anyone tell me why a direct headshot kills them?" Gary said, waving around a black marker as he surveyed the room of bored, bored out of their mind, children.

One teenager raised his hand. "Martin." Gary replied.

"Fungus grows in the brain stem." He said, in a deliberate confident, tone sitting up in his seat.

Gary nodded and surveyed the class room.

The children just sat there, all staring at him with attentive stares.

He sighed recalling how unnatural it was for children to be this awake way back before. He was one of the original members of this community. He raised his daughter and half of the other kids in this room, and then he saw what she did to them. Now his own daughter was part of her movement.

A loud tapping noise echoed throughout the makeshift classroom. A man stood there dressed from the neck down in riot gear, an orange bandana was wrapped around his neck and a helmet hung loosely form his left hand as he leaned on the door. His bright blonde hair ruffled, a nonchalant expression was etched onto his face.

"Hey Kenny." Gary nervously said, scav members usually never came while they were on duty. All the children's gazes shifted.

Kenny waved his hand off dismissively, the motion cutting Garry off. He motioned his head behind him and subsequently two teenagers stepped out. One was red haired and brown eyed, standing over a head taller to his other companion, a girl with auburn hair tied up in a ponytail with green eyes. They both looked cautious as if they didn't know what to expect and were prepared to deal with whatever was dished out from the local population.

"Visitors? Uh, you two just take a seat wherever okay?" Garry awkwardly stated, thrown off by the two teens, realizing who they were from earlier in the day.

Martin unconsciously licked his lips. Class had just got a lot more interesting.

….

"No grand tour?" Joel asked to his guide, as they were walking down one of the many corridors in this prison.

When they got to the gates they had too, on foot, pass through three gates. One makeshift out of various stacked cars and trucks, and the two others chain link, with a heavy dosage of barbed wire was situated at the top. Since then they were immediately escorted inside with Ellie and Jake being taken off too someplace else. Much too Joel's protest, he had been with those kids for a while and was surprisingly uncomfortable with the idea of them not always trailing him.

Women, Men, and elderly stared as they walked by. Some dressed in a full orange prison jumpsuit some not, opting for a simple pants and t shirt combination. Nearly all of them had a weapon. Knives, guns, and even tools like wrenches and hammers, all of them gave Joel a distrustful look but all stepped out of the way as Stan passed through.

Stan was leading Joel towards the grand emperor of this small kingdom. "Nah, believe or not people actually don't take too kindly too strangers around these parts." Stan cheerfully replied.

Joel looked into the cells as they walked by; some were filled with books, stacked up in corners. Some had blankets covering the ground like some sort of makeshift carpet. Others had drawings and pictures hung up on the walls. Almost all of them had a weapon hung up on the walls. Whether it be shotgun, rifle, or Machete.

Stan noticed Joel's curiosity "Better safe than sorry." He said in a matter-of-fact fashion.

"Giving former convicts heavy weaponry is a bit over doing it." Joel replied.

Stan suddenly turned to face Joel putting his hand on his shoulder; he looked Joel straight in the eye. "We're not fucking crazy, we're goddamn human beings and we can at least act like ones. You gotta watch your mouth when you talk like that, I might ignore it but the others won't."

He let go of Joel and turned back, continuing the trek in silence.

…..

Ellie considered herself smart, and not in a million fucking years would she consider herself dumb but she had to admit to herself. She didn't understand a fucking thing the teacher was saying.

One minute the teacher was just talking about guns and knives next he was talking about equations and algebra. She sighed I never did get a good education she thought to herself I was always switching schools, getting kicked out for all the trouble I got into. She tried to focus back on the lesson but her thoughts soon began to drift.

She looked at Jake from the corner of her eye, sitting in the desk across from her who looked as equally bored. She didn't know why but she couldn't help but stare. She always got this weird feeling in her stomach whenever she looked at him. Crush sounds really stupid but there's no other way to describe it. She thought to no one in particular.

Maybe it was his unruly red hair, or his large frame, or maybe how he seemed to move about with much ease considering how much he's grown since she met him, he was sarcastic, rude, and funny and was her best friend and she was scared out of her mind about fucking it up. Jake caught her staring, his eyes widened and he looked her in the eye causing Ellie to do the same, both embarrassed.

Fuck! Why do hormones have to be so god damn annoying? She didn't know what to do. On one hand Jake might return the feelings. On the other he might not, effectively destroying their friendship. God, I'm a stereotype.

She shook her head, going back to playing with her switchblade, pretending to listen.

…

This is more recent.

A dark skinned man sat in his cell, head lowered to the ground as he slowly played with his hands. Shadows enveloped him, the only illumination coming from a faint candle outside his cell. He wore a pair of raggedy jeans and the top half of a prison suit. Crudely cut with a pair of scissors to make a shirt.

There were two guards outside the cell, the only difference between them and the prisoner was the badge they both wore on their chests.

"Haven't seen him in around here before." Said one of the guards with a thick country accent.

"Just got in." The other one said with a quiet voice.

"What he in for? Start a fight?"

"No"

"Caught stealing?"

"No"

"Kill a dude?"

"Two actually, his wife and her lover."

The country man whistled loudly, echoing across the underground cell block.

"Typical sentence." He quietly whispered.

"Seems like it."

…

"You must be Joel." A young woman said as she rose up to meet the newcomer.

Joel stared at her with an emotionless expression. He looked around. Stan led them to an office of sorts. Book cases lined the walls, papers were strewed in stacks and piles, the windows were open, letting the warm spring air fill the room. Portraits of seemingly important people were on the wall, probably of people I don't care to remember no more. Joel thought to himself.

"Joel, this is my sister Trace."

He grunted and took a seat, trying to gauge her. She seemed like a talker, listening to talkers made Joel thirsty.

Stan left the room as Trace took a seat at her desk. "Not much of a social butterfly are ya?"

"Who is these days?"

"You'd be surprised."

He recalled back to Jake, and winter.

"I guess I would."

He studied her small but lean frame. Her short blonde hair. She looked nice, for her age that is.

Joel was silent as Trace sat there awkwardly.

"Half the people in this prison, weren't actually prisoners you know."

Joel said nothing.

"A quarter of us were security guards, another quarter were construction and office workers, like me. We all piled up into this place as soon as we could and started fortificating the place. Is that a word? Fortificating heh."

"Cut the shit."

'Most men are charmed by me."

"Sex! Is that what you want?"

"It's not off the table."

Joel looked at her slim waist, the revealing tank top she was wearing, her bright blue eyes. He could think of worse things.

"Why am I here?"

"To do a job."

"My job isn't to fuck you."

"More of a reward really, for a job well done."

"What is this goddamn job?"

"Long story or short?"

"Short as humanly fucking possible."

"Their's a group to the east, three adults, like seven children. We've got reason to believe they're not their parents."

"Why do you care?"

"Seven children, three unrelated adults with guns, I would draw you a picture but I'm not paticulary talented."

"You've got manpower, just swoop in there and pick them up."

"They have a tank."

"Bullshit."

"Okay fine, those three adults were some of ours. Before they escaped and took the children as hostage. They recognize us, they kill the children, but if they see you they might let you in"

Joel said nothing.

Trace continued."Look just kill the dudes and bring back the children and we'll load you up with as much shit as you can carry."

Joel sat silent before asking "Our picks?"

"Sure."

Joel thought for a second.

"Deal."

…

Done, finally.

To respond to a review….

Medaka: Jake from resident evil 6?

Answer: Nope, I have a picture of what he looks like in my head but I'm terrible at describing and worse at drawing. I kinda left him a bit blank on purpose; my favorite part of any book is imagining in my mind the story and characters. I'd love it if anyone tried to draw him but for now he's blank.

Reviews are way more meaningful than you would think, I came back to writing because of that last review and part of the reason I stopped is because I thought no one was reading. Do me a huge self esteem boost and leave a review if you've enjoyed the series so far.

A little update on the story itself, basically after this arc its Utah and then the stories done. For now at least. I've had an ending brewing in my head for a while now and I think you guys will probably hate it. It feeds on the games feeling of dread and anxiety. I sound like an asshole but I'm gonna tell you straight up, Jake isn't immune so he's not gonna take the bullet for Ellie.

Keywords, Anxiety and Dread.

Until next time

-Jogman(Looking back on it my username is really dumb.)