Author's note: Takes place after the events of Episode 3
We've been on the road a few hours now. It's a clear night with a full moon. Ellie's staring out the passenger side window. The look on her face changes from wonder, to fear, and back again. The kid's never been outside the QZ. She's never seen countryside. She has some idea now though, of the dangers that are out here.
Tess is gone. Bill and Frank are gone. My eyes are getting heavy. It's more of a sad tired than a regular tired. I blink hard and force myself to focus on the road. As I fight sleep, my brain drifts into a half awake dream state. The vision grows clearer as its comfort draws me in.
It's a memory— a random Sunday night a few years back. Tess and I had just finished a run. We'd been working together for a few months, but this one didn't go as planned. The supplier shorted us by a quarter of what he said he had. We took it anyways. We made the three day hike back to Boston in a constant, cold rain. By the time we were back in the QZ, it's well past midnight. Unfazed by the weather, FEDRA patrols sweep the streets. Both of us sneak back to my apartment. Wet, chilled, and exhausted, I strip off my clothes and go straight to bed while Tess pours herself a drink in my kitchen.
Morning sun wakes me and a sound in the kitchen startles me. I scramble out of bed, ready to fight whoever thought it was a good idea to invade my apartment. I storm into the kitchen and stop short. Tess lays two plates of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table. My heart aches as I think back to that same breakfast Sarah had made on outbreak day. The adrenaline in my veins ebbs into relief with a twinge of sadness— that sadness lightened by the presence of another person in this dump of an apartment where usually I'd sit alone with nothing but a bottle of booze.
We finish our eggs. She takes her share of the supplies we'd smuggled and leaves to deliver them. She sort of smiles as she closes the door behind her.
Her footsteps fade down the hallway. I—miss her. I look forward to seeing her again.
I take the rest of our haul to our clients. A group of guys, regulars, meet me in the secluded basement of a machine shop. For two months, they hadn't paid. Today they ask for credit again. Their leader, Jake, gives his sob story about how he needs the pills, how he had to trade the ration cards he owed me. Same story different day. I take back the booze and pills that I'd laid on a crate in front of the guys— I'm not getting burned again.
Wood splinters as a blow hits my back. Matt, their muscle, had ambushed me with a chair. I fall to my hands and knees. Before I can stand to defend myself, one of the others kicks me in the chest. I slam into the basement wall, hitting my head off of the stone foundation. My vision blurs. When my eyes refocus, Jake kneels over me with a knife to my neck. I try to push him away. I'm almost successful but the knife slips and slices my forehead. Blood pours into my eyes as I try to push Jake away. Another set of footsteps rumbles down the stairs.
"Get off him!" An enraged female voice screams.
Tess.
The shadows of Jake's gangsters sweep across the room as they converge on her. Gunfire erupts. Clouds of dust rise from the concrete floor as Jake's crew fall dead.
Jake releases me. He rushes at Tess. She shoots him dead.
"Joel! You're bleeding." Tess kneels beside me. A spike of pain shoots through my face as she inspects the wound between my eyes. Cloth rips. Tess wipes the blood from my face with a fragment of Jake's shirt. She opens the bottle of booze and dabs another shred of shirt with the alcohol. She gives a sympathetic look as she presses the antiseptic to my face. I hold my breath, holding back a groan as the alcohol stings the broken skin.
Back at the apartment, Tess helps me into bed. I'm embarrassed to be this vulnerable. It has me salty and I know I've said some things I shouldn't on the way back here. Tess's fingers work their way down my back, inspecting the damage done by Jake's boys' ambush. I curse in pain.
"Joel—" Tess steps back. "Your ribs are broken and you have a concussion."
She goes to the kitchen. She comes back with some pain pills and whiskey to wash it down.
I take the pills and lie down, waiting for sleep to come. It's 5:30. I expect Tess to be leaving before curfew starts. Instead she sits on the side of the bed.
"You g-gotta get going." my words run together as the drugs take effect.
"Your ribs are broken. Your lungs might be bruised." She states. She puts a gentle arm around me.
I like it.
"I'm staying right here to make sure you're okay." Tess's words echo in my mind as I drift off.
"Joel. Joel!" A much younger female voice scolds me. A hand shakes my shoulder, bringing me back to alertness. Ellie glares at me. "You fell asleep."
I'm still driving the truck. I crack the window for some air. Somewhere in the distance, an infected screeches. I grunt, burdened by the shame of falling asleep at the wheel and the sorrow of what felt so real just a moment ago being nothing more than a memory. I wish for the dream— that memory—safe in Tess's arms. But I'm here in this Chevy S-10 in a clicker infested forest, in the middle of the night. I glance to Ellie. As long as were in the truck and moving, were okay.
Tess's last words— the only thing keeping me going— echo in my mind:
Save who you can save.