Disclaimer:
This is a slight retelling of The Last Of Us.
All original characters are my own creation. I claim no ownership of the source material, as all rights are retained by Naughty Dog.
Chapter 1: Boston
The gritty reality of Joel's life unfolded in the early morning haze of Boston. The flickering neon lights outside his apartment window seemed to mock the monotony of his routine. As he rose from the clutches of a drug-induced slumber, the remnants of the night before lingered in his veins, a constant reminder of the escape he sought from the harsh realities of this world.
The room, dimly lit and cramped, bore the traces of countless mornings like this. Joel's worn clothes clung to him, a testament to the scarcity of resources in this post-apocalyptic city. The cup of lowest-grade coffee did little to stave off the fatigue that settled over him like a heavy shroud.
Tess, his steadfast companion, had already set out for the day. The details of the elusive truck battery occupied her thoughts, a glimmer of hope in the otherwise bleak landscape. Joel's gaze lingered on the vacant space she left behind, a silent acknowledgment of the trust they had forged in a world where alliances were fragile at best.
The door creaked open as Joel stepped into the dimly lit corridor. Each footfall echoed in the silence, a reminder of the city's desolation. Today's assignment awaited – the grim task of discarding infected bodies, a necessary evil in a world plagued by a merciless infection.
The city greeted Joel with a cold embrace as he navigated its narrow alleys. His stomach churned in anticipation of the repulsive stench that awaited him at the disposal site. The memories of the night before, drowned in alcohol, mingled with the grim reality of the day ahead. But escape demanded sacrifices, and for Joel, each nauseating breath was a step closer to freedom.
The morning sun struggled to break through the thick layer of pollution that hung over Boston. Joel's head throbbed in protest as he approached the site, where trucks loaded with the remnants of the infected awaited their turn to be consumed by the hungry flames.
His face, partially concealed by a makeshift mask, failed to hide the weariness etched into his features. The task at hand required a detachment from the horrors of the infected bodies, each one a stark reminder of the fragile line between survival and despair.
Another truck pulled into the makeshift firepit, and Joel's hands tightened into fists as he prepared for the grim duty that awaited him. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, clinging to him like a haunting specter. His thoughts, however, were consumed not only by the present but by the future he sought beyond the confines of the Quarantine Zone.
In the midst of the solemn task, a hand on Joel's shoulder interrupted the rhythm of his actions. He turned to face a fellow survivor, a lady coworker, her eyes heavy with the weight of shared sorrows. The unspoken exchange conveyed the collective burden they carried, a burden that transcended the physical act of disposing of the dead.
"I can't..." her voice wavered, barely audible amidst the ambient sounds of suffering.
Joel's gaze followed hers, landing on a small, bound figure that seemed to embody the innocence lost in this unforgiving world. With a heavy heart, he lifted the lifeless form and placed it on the pyre, the flames swallowing the innocence and leaving behind only ashes.
As the day unfolded, Joel grappled with the shadows cast by the flames, both literal and metaphorical. The yearning to find his brother, to escape the confines of the QZ, burned brighter than ever. The journey ahead promised not just physical challenges but a reckoning with the moral compromises required for survival in a world overshadowed by the infection. Each step further into the shadows brought him closer to the elusive hope that lingered on the horizon.
The shrill sound of the alarm cut through the air, a sharp punctuation to the grueling routine that defined Joel's existence. With a sense of weariness, he joined the line for the end-of-day payment, a ritual that marked the conclusion of another day within the walls of the Quarantine Zone.
As he approached the table manned by the guard, Joel signed off for the day, a perfunctory exchange that held the weight of countless repetitions. The guard handed him the meager ration cards, a currency in this desolate world where survival was measured in the barest essentials.
"You got anything else?" Joel inquired, his hand instinctively pocketing the cards.
The guard's response came with a sigh, an audible expression of the shared burden they carried. "Tomorrow we have street sweeping, or sewer maintenance."
Both options hung in the air, each laden with its own flavor of unpleasantness. Joel's face betrayed no emotion as he considered the choices laid out before him.
"Which pays more?" The Texan drawled, seeking the pragmatic angle in a world that offered little room for sentiment.
The guard's annoyance was palpable as he answered, "That would be the one with the shit." His gaze locked onto Joel's, a momentary challenge beneath the weariness etched into his features.
In acknowledgment, Joel nodded, the unspoken understanding between them forming a connection forged in the crucible of their shared reality. The guard, begrudgingly, handed him a stamped paper, a document outlining the specifics of the next day's undesirable task.
As Joel navigated the bustling crowd, the encroaching dusk painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. The sun, making its descent on the horizon, hinted at the impending curfew that would soon cast a veil of darkness over the Quarantine Zone. The rhythm of life shifted, and the city's pulse quickened with the urgency of those seeking shelter before the curfew's enforcement.
His gaze lifted, drawn instinctively toward the rooftop where a solitary figure stood against the backdrop of the setting sun. The figure, draped in a long, black hooded coat, faced away from Joel, their silhouette outlined against the dimming sky. A strange sense of familiarity tinged Joel's perception as he halted in his steps, his eyes fixed on the mysterious presence.
The hooded figure, a constant enigma in the city, seemed to gaze out toward the ocean. Joel had encountered this elusive character many times since his arrival at the QZ. A perpetual observer, they remained an enigmatic presence, shrouded in the anonymity of their attire. The large hood cast a shadow over their features, concealing any hint of identity.
Joel and Tess had heard countless rumors circulating about this person. Whispers in the shadows suggested affiliations with factions of Fedra or a background in special ops from distant lands. The truth, however, remained veiled, locked within the secrets of the hooded figure's obscured identity.
As Joel continued to observe, the city's sounds melted into a distant hum, and time seemed to slow. The figure stood sentinel on the rooftop, a silent witness to the unfolding drama within the Quarantine Zone.
A distant alarm echoed through the air, snapping Joel's attention back to the reality of the approaching curfew. One hour remained before the streets would fall silent, and he had one final stop to make before heading home. He tore his gaze away from the rooftop, where the hooded figure had vanished into the shadows.
The quiet solitude of Joel's apartment enveloped him as he returned from the city's shadows, the door closing behind him with a muffled thud. Tess's absence, though notable, didn't incite worry in Joel's hardened heart. She was resilient, capable, and adept at navigating the challenges that defined their daily lives within the Quarantine Zone.
In the dimly lit room, Joel's gaze lingered on the empty space Tess usually occupied. He knew her better than anyone else, and her delayed return didn't set off alarms in his mind. The city's rhythm dictated unpredictable schedules, and Tess, like him, operated on the fringes of the norm.
Joel's steps carried him to a corner of the room, where a piece of floorboard yielded to his touch. A hidden compartment revealed itself, housing a trove of necessities — tools for survival, a worn map tracing the contours of their uncertain world, alcohol to numb the pain, and drugs to momentarily escape the harsh reality.
With deliberate movements, Joel spread the map across a makeshift table, tracing the worn routes and landmarks that would lead him to Wyoming, where the elusive clues to his brother's whereabouts lay. The map, a testament to years of survival, told a story of countless journeys and the unrelenting pursuit of hope in a world that seemed devoid of it.
As he immersed himself in the task at hand, a familiar undercurrent of worry and anxiety began to pulse through Joel's veins. It had been two decades since the tragic loss of his daughter, Sarah, a wound that time had failed to fully heal. Now, with Tommy as the sole remnant of his family, the stakes felt even higher.
The weight of responsibility and the incessant anxiety began to overwhelm him. The room seemed to close in as the memories of the past collided with the uncertainties of the future. Joel's hands shook slightly as he reached for the tools that offered a brief respite from the haunting thoughts.
Pouring shot after shot, the amber liquid mingled with the anticipation of release. Pills followed, each one a temporary salve for the wounds that lingered beneath the surface. The room blurred as the concoction worked its magic, dulling the edges of reality.
Joel, now on the precipice of surrender to the intoxicating mix, stumbled toward his bed. The world swayed as he fell onto the mattress, the room spinning as consciousness teetered on the edge.
In the disorienting haze, echoes of the past reverberated in Joel's mind. His daughter's cries, a haunting reminder of a loss that time failed to erase, lingered in the recesses of his consciousness. As sleep claimed him, the boundaries between past and present blurred, and Joel descended into the fractured realm of memories, each step into the abyss accompanied by the echoes of a life shaped by tragedy and the relentless pursuit of a future yet uncertain.
Tess sat against the cold, unforgiving wall of her cell, exhaustion clinging to her like a heavy shroud. Every inch of her face throbbed in pain, testament to the brutality she endured from both Robert's men and the relentless hands of Fedra. Hours had passed since her arrest, and the possibility of release seemed to grow more distant with each moment spent in the oppressive cell.
Pleading with the guards had proven futile. The chaos of the Firefly bombings had ensnared her, but Fedra, in its authoritarian manner, had chosen to arrest first and ask questions later. Tess leaned her head back against the unforgiving surface, contemplating the uncertainty of her fate.
Voices outside her cell caught her attention, and although muffled, the word 'Shadow' pierced through the air. Panic rippled among the guards, their confusion evident in the hurried exchange of words.
"Why is she here?!"
"I don't know! We weren't told anything!"
"Shit!"
Curiosity stirred within Tess as she strained to hear the guards' conversation, hoping for a glimmer of understanding regarding her predicament.
"She wants to see the prisoner!"
"Fuck!"
Hope flickered, and Tess wondered if this unexpected visitor could be the key to her release. The door opened, and two guards entered, pointing their guns at Tess.
"On the wall!" one of them commanded, his voice laden with authority.
Tess complied, raising her hands as she was instructed. A mysterious figure, hooded and enigmatic, entered the cell. The room fell silent as the hooded person surveyed the scene. Tess held her breath, uncertain of what was unfolding.
The hooded figure pointed at Tess and spoke with a voice that carried an air of youth and a distinct English accent. "Release this one."
The guards hesitated, their confusion evident. They questioned the legitimacy of the order.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but under whose orders?"
The hooded woman turned sharply, her response cutting through the air. "Mine."
The guards were visibly shaken by the authority in her voice. The hooded figure clarified, "You will not refer to me as 'ma'am.' My designation is Shadow, and you will only call me as such or I will have you killed myself." Shadow took a step towards the guard. "I will rip your eyes out from their sockets and feed them to your dogs."
A palpable fear gripped the guard, and he quickly acquiesced. The cell door was unlocked, and Tess, uncertain but relieved, followed Shadow out of the oppressive lockup center.
In the corridor, Tess couldn't help but ask the question burning in her mind. "Why are you helping me?"
Shadow turned to Tess, her hood obscuring her eyes. "I do not like owing favors. Consider my debt to you paid." With that, Shadow led Tess through the winding corridors until they reached an exit.
As they stepped outside, Tess felt the cool night air on her face. The streets, though ominous, were a welcome sight after the confines of the lockup center. The question lingered in Tess's mind, and she finally voiced it, "Thank you."
Shadow turned, but her eyes remained hidden. "It was a transaction. Consider it concluded."
Tess recalled the encounter several weeks ago when she had given Shadow Joel's map. The payment in ration cards seemed generous at the time, but Tess hadn't anticipated the extent of the debt she was accruing. Now, as Shadow handed her a piece of paper, Tess realized that her favor had been repaid.
"Show this to the guards should you be stopped again," Shadow instructed before turning away and disappearing into the shadows.
Tess looked at the paper, a street pass that would grant her safe passage through Fedra checkpoints. The debt repaid, the mysterious Shadow had faded into the night, leaving Tess to navigate the treacherous streets with a renewed sense of purpose. The city's shadows, though still filled with uncertainty, seemed to hold a faint promise of redemption in the wake of an unexpected ally.
The morning light crept into Joel's apartment, a faint reminder of the world beyond the shadows he often sought refuge in. The soft hum of the coffee machine permeated the air, coaxing him into wakefulness. Joel's eyes fluttered open, met with the harsh reality of a throbbing headache and the remnants of a night that blurred into the hazy recesses of his memory.
With a groan, Joel pushed himself up, the stiffness in his muscles protesting the rough night. The clothes from the day before clung uncomfortably, a tangible reminder of choices made under the weight of anxiety and despair.
Shuffling towards the source of the brewing coffee, Joel found Tess in the kitchen. The scent of the morning ritual was familiar, a small semblance of normalcy in their tumultuous lives. He mumbled his thanks, his gaze momentarily lifting from the cup to meet Tess's eyes.
The shock etched across Joel's face was immediate. Tess, the indomitable force that had weathered the storms of the QZ, bore the visible scars of a violent encounter. Her face, marred by a black eye and cuts that spoke of a brutal confrontation, told a story Joel wasn't prepared for. Tess, usually the epitome of strength, looked vulnerable and exhausted.
Concern gripped Joel, and he surged to his feet, his hand reaching out instinctively. Tess, however, motioned for him to calm down, her tired eyes meeting his with a silent plea for understanding.
"I got jumped," she explained, the words carrying a weight that resonated through the room. "By a couple of guys."
"What guys?" Joel inquired, his voice a low growl, as he sank back into his chair. His eyes, now focused on Tess's face, held a mixture of concern and restrained anger.
"Just a couple of teenagers," Tess responded, wincing slightly at Joel's touch. "Said some shit I probably shouldn't have."
Joel, without a word, stood up and fetched a cloth. The scent of alcohol filled the air as he carefully tended to Tess's wounds.
"It's a miracle you're alive," Joel muttered, his hands moving with a practiced gentleness. Tess, in turn, acknowledged the fragile nature of their survival in this unforgiving world.
"It's a miracle any one of us are alive."
Joel sensed there was more to the story, an unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface. He knew Tess well enough to understand when to press and when to let her guard down on her own accord.
Tess took a deep breath, a resolve settling over her features. She could feel Joel's gaze probing, sensing that she wasn't revealing the full truth. 'Fuck it,' she thought, deciding to lay it all bare.
"I was in Fedra lockup," she admitted, pushing Joel's hand away from her face. "It doesn't matter. What I need is for you to take a breath."
"Tell me," Joel demanded, his eyes narrowing as he sought the complete truth.
"The guys who jumped me were with Robert."
The name hung in the air, a harbinger of betrayal that stirred a tempest within Joel. The anger began to build in his eyes as Tess continued.
"He sold our battery to someone else."
Joel sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration. The hopes they had harbored, the plans they had made, all shattered in the aftermath of this revelation. The dream of leaving the QZ to find Tommy, already hanging by a thread, now seemed to unravel completely.
"Nothings changed!" Tess interjected, her voice a mix of defiance and encouragement. "Shit like this always happens. You need to just shake it off so we can go hunt that motherfucker down."
"Where is he?" Joel demanded, the intensity of his gaze meeting Tess's.
"Don't know. Yet," Tess admitted, her gaze holding a spark of determination. "But I know someone who might."
The revelation hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting their present to an uncertain future. Joel's eyes met Tess's, a silent understanding passing between them. In the hushed exchange, no more words needed to be spoken. The city outside, veiled in the early morning shadows, awaited their next move.
Simultaneously, Joel and Tess rose from their seats, their movements synchronized in purpose. Without a moment's hesitation, they each grabbed their bags, worn and weathered from the weight of countless journeys within the Quarantine Zone.
Following leads fueled by a handful of ration cards, Tess and Joel found themselves in pursuit of Robert. The red-tagged building, where he intended to resell the precious battery, loomed ahead as they navigated the shadowy alleyways. They reached the building's interior, climbing through hidden backways that seemed to resonate with the echoes of a bygone era.
As they ascended a ladder, Joel, in an uncharacteristic move, began to share fragments of the building's history. It was a rare glimpse into his past, a topic he seldom broached. Tess couldn't help but smile, appreciating the connection to a Joel that existed before the world fractured into chaos.
Reaching the top, Tess attempted to open a door only to find it obstructed by an unexpected obstacle. "The fuck?" she exclaimed. "Someone put a piano in front of this?"
The scent of gunpowder hung in the air, catching Joel's attention. Tess, her instincts on high alert, forced the door open, revealing a gruesome tableau. Bodies strewn across the hallway told a story of a violent clash, a struggle for survival that left no one unscathed.
Robert, the orchestrator of their misfortune, lay lifeless against the door. Tess's gaze fell to the floor, where their sought-after battery lay, now tarnished by the bloodshed. "Shit," she muttered. "The battery is no good." She turned her flashlight to Robert. "And you still tried to sell it. Twice." Tess's fury mingled with disgust. In this broken world, they clung to a code, a semblance of humanity that Robert had forsaken.
A pained groan echoed down the hall, drawing their attention. Joel, gun drawn, moved cautiously, Tess following in his wake. Turning a corner, they encountered two women limping away. To their surprise, a young girl emerged, knife in hand, ready to attack Joel. In a swift motion, he disarmed and subdued her, the impact against the wall reverberating through the corridor.
The girl, no older than 15, stared up at Joel with a mix of defiance and surprise. Joel, still on edge, kept his gun trained on her. The unexpected encounter took a turn when a familiar voice called out from down the hall.
"What the fuck?" The girl exclaimed, her eyes wide as she stared up at the Texan.
"Joel?"
Joel turned to see Marlene, a woman bleeding from a wound on her side.
"Marlene?" Joel's disbelief lingered in the air.
The woman, her side marked by a bleeding wound, turned her attention to the girl. "Are you okay, Ellie?"
Still recovering from the impact of being slammed into the wall, Ellie replied, "Yeah..." She reached for her knife on the floor, but Joel swiftly placed his foot on it, earning an angry glare from Ellie.
"Ellie!" Marlene attempted to soothe the agitated girl.
Ellie shifted her gaze to Marlene and noticed the blood flowing from her wound. "Oh, shit!"
"No, I'm okay," Marlene insisted. "I'll be just fine after I get patched up."
"So this is who Robert screwed us over with?" Tess almost laughed at the revelation. "The Che Guevara of Boston? Is your war going that shitty that you need to be buying from scumbags like him?" Tess gestured at Robert's lifeless body.
"Yeah, the merch was bad. And he didn't take 'fuck off' for an answer," Marlene replied.
Ellie, still on the floor, stared at her blade. "Give me my knife back."
"The hell do you need a battery for?" Joel asked.
Ellie, fed up, moved to grab her knife, only for Joel to point his gun back at her. Scared, Ellie put her hands up and leaned against the wall.
"No!" Marlene shouted. "Not at her!"
Now Tess had her gun drawn and pointed at Marlene.
Seeing this and wanting to diffuse the situation, Marlene lowered her own gun and looked at Joel. "Point your gun at me."
Joel kept his gun on Marlene as she continued. "I need the battery for a better reason than you. Tommy is just one man. We were going to move Ellie out of the zone tonight. But I won't make it like this, anyways." Marlene sighed, the effects of blood loss starting to take its toll. "Now I'm thinking, you're going to do it."
"The hell we are."
"I'm not going anywhere with them!"
Both Joel and Ellie exclaimed in unison.
Joel looked back at his partner. "We don't have time for this."
Tess turned her gaze to Ellie. "Who is she?"
"To you? She's just cargo."
"Sorry, we don't smuggle children." Joel was starting to get agitated. Marlene was the last person in the world he wanted to see right now. He blamed her for the falling out between him and Tommy.
"There's a team of Fireflies waiting at the old State House. I was going with an entire squadron, but now I don't have a truck or a squadron. What I do have is you, and I know what the two of you are capable of."
Ellie looked back at Marlene, feeling a slight panic beginning to build. "What are they capable of?"
"If you deliver Ellie there safely, they'll give you everything you need to go find your brother. I swear." Marlene was on the verge of begging Joel for his help. He could see the desperation in her eyes.
Joel kicked Ellie's knife away from reach and walked towards Tess.
"Asshole!" Ellie swore at Joel as he walked away.
"Do you trust what she's saying?" Tess asked the Texan.
Joel let out a long sigh.
"Me neither, but she seems very desperate to even be asking for our help."
"If we get our hands on a Firefly vehicle, that means repurposed Fedra parts. It's more of a decent chance of getting to Tommy in one piece."
"Please, keep talking it through, but just remember that I'm kinda bleeding out over here!" Marlene called from the other end of the hall.
Tess locked eyes with Joel before nodding.
"Ok." Tess walked over toward Marlene. "Here's the deal. We get her to your people at the State House. Before we hand her over, your people give us everything we want. Guns, ammo, supplies, and a working vehicle. Or she dies right there and then."
Ellie's eyes widened, aghast at the proposal. This was a horrible idea in her mind.
"Deal."
"Are you shitting me, Marlene?!" Ellie hissed. "Just who the hell are these people?"
"You are the only thing that matters right now, Ellie," Marlene winced from the pain of the wound on her side. "My team will NOT jeopardize that. Just remember everything that I told you, and go get your backpack."
Ellie was still hesitant to move from the floor.
"Look at me, Ellie."
She met Marlene's gaze, conflicted.
"Go. Now."
Reluctantly, Ellie got to her feet and retreated to the room she first came out of when she tried to attack Joel, stomping her feet with displeasure. In seconds, she grabbed her bag and returned to Tess and Joel.
"Let's go," Tess ordered.
Looking back at Marlene one last time, the pair said a silent farewell before Ellie turned to follow Tess.
Ellie forcefully pushed past Joel and picked up her knife on the way.
"Joel." Marlene called out to the Texan.
Joel pivoted to face her, his expression stoic.
"Please, don't fuck this up." The woman begged.
Rain pounded relentlessly over the city, its rhythmic drumming echoing through the deserted streets. Tess took the lead, guiding the group towards their apartment. Joel and Tess needed to regroup, devising the best strategy for slipping out of the city unnoticed by Fedra forces. It would have been manageable if it were just the two of them, but now they had a child to smuggle.
Glancing back at Ellie, Tess noticed the glazed look in her eyes. "Poor kid," Tess thought, empathizing with the weight thrust upon the young girl.
Upon reaching the apartment, Tess opened the door for Ellie and gestured inside. "Give us a minute, will you?" Ignoring Ellie's protests, Tess exited the room, firmly shutting the door behind her.
Alone in the apartment, Ellie could hear the muffled voices of Joel and Tess discussing their next move. "So, do you have a plan?" Joel's voice penetrated through the door.
"We don't really have a lot of options here," Tess replied. "Short way's pretty much fucked up."
"That leaves the long way. If things go bad, we'll come up with something. We always do. We have to stop in at Bill and Frank's anyway to restock on supplies."
Joel's voice began to fade as Ellie moved away from the door, exploring the typical post-apocalyptic living space—two decades' worth of dust and dirt, dirty dishes stacked in the kitchen, books and clothing scattered everywhere. She tossed her bag onto a nearby chair and picked up a book from a table—a collection of number one songs from decades past.
As Ellie flipped through the pages, she discovered a piece of paper. It was a coded message: "60's - nothing in. 70's - New stock. 80's" with a line crossed out. Ellie deduced it was a smuggling code used for black market operations in and out of the QZ, but the mystery of "80's" lingered in her mind.
The door opened, and Joel entered the room alone.
"Where's Tess?" Ellie inquired, still holding the book.
"Out," came Joel's gruff reply.
Curiosity got the better of Ellie. "Who's Bill and Frank?"
Ignoring the question, Joel sat on the couch.
"The radio is smuggling code, right?" Ellie pressed on.
Joel looked up at her.
"A 60's song means they don't have anything new. 70's, they got new stuff. What's 80's?"
Joel stood up, snatched the book from Ellie, and tossed it on a nearby table. He was in no mood for interrogation by a child. Walking back to the couch, he laid down and closed his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Ellie asked.
"What does it look like?"
"The hell am I supposed to do?!" Ellie, irritated by the older Texan, voiced her frustration.
"I'm sure you'll figure that out," Joel retorted, eyes still closed.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ellie rolled her eyes. Picking up the book that Joel had tossed, she went to sit on the chair where she dropped her bag.
"Your watch is broken," she commented as she moved to the other side of the room.
oel stirred after some time, the remnants of a recurring nightmare still lingering. The haunting echoes of another childs cries for help, her face etched with fear, replayed in his dreams like a relentless loop.
"You mumble in your sleep," Ellie whispered, her gaze fixed on the inky blackness outside the window. "I hate bad dreams."
As Joel slowly sat up, feeling the stiffness in his back from the makeshift couch, Ellie continued, "I've never been on the outside of the wall. Do you guys go out there a lot?"
"Sure."
"When was the last time?"
"Maybe a year ago, why?" Joel inquired.
"Do you know where to go?" Ellie turned to face Joel, searching for reassurance. "So, we're going to be okay?"
In that moment, Joel realized the vulnerability of the situation. Ellie was just a child, scared and seeking some form of comfort. "Yeah, we'll be just fine," he assured her, settling back into the couch.
A silence hung between them for a few minutes before Ellie broke it. "Oh, by the way, the radio came on while you were asleep."
Joel's eyes widened, and he leaned forward. "What was the song?"
"They kept saying 'wake me up before you go, go,'" Ellie grinned mischievously.
A wave of dread washed over Joel's face. "Shit," he mumbled.
"Gotcha," Ellie smiled.
Joel looked up, bewildered.
"80's means trouble. Code broken."
"You little shit..." Joel thought, feeling irritated.
He moved to stand up, but before he could say anything, the door opened. Tess had returned.
"The spot under Lancaster still looks good," Tess announced, her eyes scanning their surroundings. She turned to Ellie. "Do you have a jacket in your bag?"
Ellie nodded.
"Good, get it on. It's time to go."
As they prepared to leave, several Fedra patrols scoured the city. Armed soldiers meticulously checked every corner and alleyway for curfew breakers. Though the rain had momentarily ceased, the threat of its return loomed. Rain would be their useful cover outside the QZ.
An asphalt piece began to shift, and Joel pushed it aside, climbing out of the hole. He reached back to assist Ellie and Tess. Excitement radiated from Ellie as she stood up, exclaiming, "Holy shit! I'm actually on the other side!"
Tess hushed her, a reminder they weren't out of danger yet. "Okay," Tess whispered, "We're going to take the left side over the buffer zone. You stay close to me and follow my lead. Joel will keep watch from behind. You need to be fast and quiet."
"Got it," Ellie replied.
Tess took Ellie's hand, and they pressed forward. They ducked under an old school bus to avoid Fedra lights, with multiple vehicles passing by. The trio stayed low behind a blown-up car until Tess deemed it safe to continue, her grip on Ellie's hand tight.
Clear of immediate danger, Tess led them through an old pipe to avoid detection by passing helicopters. Thunder rolled through the pipe like a bell as a thunderstorm began.
As they turned a corner, they encountered a Fedra soldier urinating on a wall. The group froze, attempting to sneak past unnoticed. The soldier caught them and drew his weapon, ordering them to turn around.
"Hey!" he called out, embarrassed to be caught off-guard.
Lightning flashed, revealing his face. "Turn around and get on your fucking knees!"
Joel tried to reason with the soldier, but the situation escalated. The soldier insisted on scanning them for infections, adopting an uncompromising stance.
"Unauthorized exit," the soldier remarked. "They'll hang you all for this."
Tess tried to negotiate, offering goods for their freedom, but the soldier was resolute.
"We'll give you half off this run, man!" Tess pleaded.
The soldier proceeded to scan each of them. When he reached Ellie, she swiftly plunged her knife into his leg. He cried out in pain, retaliating by aiming his gun at her. Joel instinctively stepped in between them.
"No!"
"Move out of the way!" the soldier ordered.
"We can fix this!" Joel pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Memories and flashes from his past overwhelmed him, echoing the trauma he had endured before.
The soldier pointed his gun at Ellie, but before he could act, Joel lunged at him, taking him down. In a blur, Joel unleashed a flurry of blows, seemingly taken over by a violent force. Ellie stood behind, watching every strike.
As Joel snapped back to reality, he glanced over his shoulder at Ellie, whose face remained expressionless. Tess reached for the scanner, fear gripping her.
"JOEL!" she yelled out.
The scanner was red, indicating infection in Ellie.
Tess handed the scanner to Joel, who stared at it in disbelief. Did Marlene just set them up?
"No, no, I'm not sick!" Ellie pleaded with the smugglers. In desperation, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing an obviously old bite mark. "Look! This is three weeks old! No one lasts more than a day!"
Tess grabbed Ellie's arm, staring at the bite mark in disbelief.
"We need to go!" Ellie shouted. "They're going to catch us if we don't go now!"
Sirens began to wail at that very moment, their shrill tones cutting through the night.
Tess swiftly got to her feet, grabbing Ellie by the arm. "We gotta move, Joel!"
Joel, still in a daze from the events that had just unfolded, followed behind Tess as they hurried into the night.
The trio sprinted through the darkened streets, the urgency in their steps matching the escalating wails of the sirens and the distant shouts of Fedra soldiers. Panic set in as the echoes of pursuit grew louder.
As they darted through alleys and streets, Joel's mind raced, grappling with the revelation of Ellie's infection. Questions gnawed at him: How long did Marlene know? Was this why they were really smuggling Ellie out of the QZ? The uncertainty added an unsettling layer to the chaos of their escape.
The rain, which had momentarily ceased, began to drizzle once again, mirroring the tension in the air. Tess, her grip firm on Ellie's arm, kept pushing forward, her eyes scanning the surroundings for signs of danger.
The trio continued to run, their breaths heavy, until the sirens and the shouting from Fedra faded into the distance, replaced only by the haunting echoes of their own footsteps. The night swallowed them, concealing their escape from the watchful eyes of the military regime they had just defied.
A/N: Thank you for your dedication in reading through this lengthy chapter! Your support means a lot. Now, let's delve into some details, shall we? I'm aware that the mysterious hooded figure has left you with questions, and rest assured, Shadow will make a reappearance in Chapter 2. There's much more to unfold in this gripping rewriting tale of The Last Of Us, and I appreciate your patience and curiosity.
Until next time!