Chapter Text
Lana had taken the lead and got the group to a hunting cabin an hour's hike from the camp. It had originally been owned by some enthusiast, but it wasn't like he needed it anymore. There were a few logs left over from their last trip back in January. Spiders had named them home.
The morning came quickly for the half of the group who slept. Joel hadn't. Lana could see it in the dark circles around his eyes. She wasn't sure Tommy did either. She knew she only got an hour, give or take.
Sunlight began pouring through the small, square windows of the cabin. Lana took that as the go-ahead to talk softly — it was a one-room cabin, and she didn't want to wake her siblings. She joined Joel and Tommy as they sat against the wooden cabinets on the kitchen area's floor.
Her mouth was dry, her voice, hoarse. "I need to go back," she stated. "There could be survivors. I need to find my family."
Joel stayed quiet.
Tommy tried to engage in one of their wordless conversations, but he failed and sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea," he muttered.
"You were leaving anyway. It doesn't matter to you," she said. "But I have to go back, and I need your help. I can't exactly fight with a toddler on my hip."
The younger brother shook his head like he was having an internal debate. His eyes were conflicted.
"What do we get out?" Joel asked.
Lana didn't care. They could take everything in the camp. They could even take the camp if they wanted. It wasn't the place she was after; it was the people. She replied, "Anything. Everything. Whatever you want. Just help me."
Their hesitation worried her. "That kid you got with you, what if she starts crying? It's over," Tommy said.
"Then I'll stay here with someone. You go and come back with your stuff, then take us back if there are survivors."
Joel replied, "If there aren't?"
Lana couldn't let herself think like that. She couldn't even allow herself to process Carl... no. There had to be survivors. "There are," she insisted. Her voice cracked.
Tommy looked like he was considering it. Silence stretched out between the three. "Oh, what the Hell. Fine," he finally decided. "I'll take you. Everyone else stays. But if anythin' happens, I'm not waitin' around for you." He tilted his head, drawing her attention over her shoulder. Her sisters slept under their coats. "They're on their own if you don't make it back."
Lana gulped before nodding. High risk, high reward, she supposed. She pushed herself to her feet, angling her head down to look at Joel. "Don't let anything happen to them while I'm gone," she warned. He didn't seem to hear.
Tommy was on his feet too. He headed for the door, pulling on his coat. "How far?"
"About an hour, I think," Lana replied. "Maybe more with the snow." She only tagged along on hunting trips in the summer.
Tommy and Lana had only made it a few feet from the cabin when the door opened again. It squeaked on the weathered hinges. They stopped. Callie was marching after them, bundled in her winter gear. Joel was following not far behind, but his focus wasn't on her. Joel went for Tommy as Callie stopped in front of Lana.
"I'm coming with you," she told her. Her arms were crossed over her chest. She was prepared to win an argument.
"No, you're not. It's not safe," Lana denied. The sky above was a brilliant blue, and sunlight bounced off the snow, nearly blinding the girl. Her head began aching. "Stay with your sisters."
"I'll be ok."
Lana was inclined to believe her after what happened last night. She didn't want a repeat of her first tantrum in years, but it really wasn't safe. She couldn't have her focus split between herself and Callie if they were attacked. She shook her head. "Go back inside," she ordered in her mother's tone. She hadn't heard her use it in years — she was always too preoccupied with the big picture to consider her little kids.
"No."
"Callie, I won't ask you again."
"You'll need me."
She huffed. "I think Tommy and I will have whatever we find handled."
"He's not going," Callie stated. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Lana believed it.
She turned towards where the brothers had stepped away to. Tommy gave Joel an understanding look and patted him on the shoulder. They approached Lana and Callie.
"Change of plans," Tommy started. "I'm waitin' here."
Lana glared at her sister. How she was always right confounded her. "Go inside," she ordered again.
"I can't." She didn't give time for a response. She trotted past Lana, not bothering to see if they were following.
Lana's face flushed with frustration. Tommy remarked under his breath, "Weird kid." Lana couldn't disagree.
She chased after her sister. Joel caught up with them a moment later. The mismatched trio marched through the snow. Lana was glad every time they passed under shade from the trees. She didn't display the joy outwardly though. Her face remained flat, agitation written all over it — it was only partly due to Callie.
Her nerves grew with every step closer to camp she came. She didn't know what they'd find. She pleaded with any force out there to find her mother, Leo, and Ben. A pit formed in her stomach — what if she didn't? She almost wanted to ask Callie, but she thought it'd be silly. Callie wasn't actually psychic like she joked about to Joel during game night; she was just strange.
Joel interrupted her thoughts. "You got a weapon?" he asked Callie. His voice had taken on a distant tone. It wasn't the same cadence as Callie's though — his sounded like necessary walls were erected around his mind when Camp Maren's fell.
Callie shook her head. "I'll find one."
"I ain't trustin' you with a gun, kid."
"I know," she replied. "Ben tried to teach me. I don't like them."
Joel fell back in line with Lana. Callie led the way, weaving through the snow-covered trees. Not even the sun could melt the icicles dangling from the branches. Lana watched her breath every time she exhaled. It kept her distracted.
As they neared the camp, Joel stopped. Lana called out quietly to Callie to have her join them. She looked expectantly to Joel. His eyes were as emotionless as his tone. He said, "We're in and out, understand? You go off and get what you're looking for. We meet back here in an hour." The watch on his wrist was broken, but he pointed to it anyway. "If you're not here, I'm leaving you."
It was harsh but understandable. Lana nodded. He turned, and they started moving again. Their movements were more careful now. Lana kept her eyes off the ground, not wanting to spot boots sticking out of the snow. She already knew Carl was dead — she didn't need to see it to believe it.
The looming gate of the camp came into view. It was still cracked, providing a window inside. Lana spotted no immediate danger, but infected had a terrifying ability to hide.
They continued on, slowing as the gate drew closer. Joel paused to listen. He trudged through the gate first. Lana followed, checking for herself before allowing Callie to follow. The younger sister appeared entirely too calm for the situation. Lana's heart had already begun to pound against her ribs. She focused hard on her surroundings — she only had the hunting knife to defend herself. With that in mind, she moved towards the shed. She came up with a plan, and her body followed. She'd go to the shed and make her way around camp, following the ring of cabins around the dining hall and Commons. Callie followed.
The shed was dark, dusty, and thankfully empty. Lana pulled Callie inside and closed the door, being conscious not to make noise that couldn't be hidden by the natural sounds around.
Lana turned her focus to the wall of weapons. She considered her options. A few of the slots were empty, but three pistols, a rifle, and a shotgun remained. The pistols had the most bullets by far, and they were easiest to carry. She took one, pocketing a few boxes of bullets. The weight of it in her hands made a small portion of her anxiety calm. She was tempted to take another one, but she only had so many pockets. She made the mental note to get her backpack when she went to her cabin. As she turned, her instincts — or maybe paranoia — screamed at her to take another. She did. As she was leaving, she noticed Callie had picked out a hunting knife like hers. It was acceptable.
They moved towards the greenhouse next. Lana sniffled quietly. She didn't need to go inside. Despite the windows being algae-covered and grimy, any movement inside would've made itself apparent.
The next building was the clinic. Lana decided to come back to it when she had her backpack. A part of her wanted to postpone discovering Edward and Jasmine's fates — she imagined that's where they'd be. She pushed on, checking for Callie over her shoulder.
The camp seemed dead, which was a double-edged sword. The lack of infected roaming was good for survival. The lack of survivors was bad for Lana's soul. She was stuck in a limbo of reasonable hopes and fearful denial.
They approached the cabins. She didn't clear them — Joel had saved her the effort. He searched them for supplies, she guessed. It wasn't a bad idea. There were loads of clothes and backpacks Joel needed. She saw him exiting Dawn and Jackson's cabin. He nodded at them and moved towards the dining hall.
Lana decided she'd wasted too much time without a backpack of her own. She curved her path towards her family's cabin. In her mind flashed the memory from the night before — her siblings being safe, Callie's tantrum, the window breaking, and fleeing.
She took a deep breath and entered. She wielded her hunting knife. Callie did the same, trailing her. She knew the possibility of infected was high. She moved towards her room first. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob before turning it slowly. She tried to be silent. Cracking the door, she peaked inside. No movement. She widened the crack. Still nothing. She entered, motioning to Callie to follow. She checked under her bed and any concealed spot an infected would be able to hide. Once she was satisfied, she nodded at Callie. Her sister locked the door.
Lana darted around the room, gathering her things. She removed any useless items from her backpack and replaced them with necessary ones. She paused in front of her dresser. Her eyes caught on the photo of her family. She snatched it, removed the frame, and zipped it into the small front pocket. Then, she joined Callie by the door. They exited into the living area carefully. It was still clear. Callie moved to her room and mimicked Lana's actions. Lana grabbed a few things from the nursery, and she snatched the key to the Commons' storage room from the kitchen before leaving.
Lana frowned as they stepped into the sun. She calculated they'd spent half an hour. All that time with no sign of survivors. Her heart clenched in her chest. They went for the Commons next. Her mental checklist only held the dining hall and clinic after that. The Commons and dining hall proved to be quick trips — she gathered a little from each. The lack of infected made her worry. It was too quiet. Still, they continued. She wondered where Joel was.
They arrived at their last stop. The clinic's door was closed. The lack of scratches, blood, and damage bode well for the interior. Lana repeated her entrance ritual. The waiting room was vacant, and she moved inside. Callie walked around her with a confidence that wasn't warranted here. Lana caught her shoulder. She was quickly shrugged off. The message got across regardless — Callie stayed close.
Lana went towards the exam room first. She pushed open the door. Someone came sprinting at her. She swung her knife. Her wrist was caught by someone's hand. Her weaker arm threw a punch. It connected with the person's jaw. His human grown made her eyes work. She recognized the blond hair first. Her arms lost their strength.
"You're alive," Edward remarked, a mix between surprise and relief in his voice. "Who else?" He let go of her wrist, stepping back. "Or is there anyone else?"
Over his shoulder, Lana spotted his daughter on the exam table. Her bicep was bandaged. The black-haired girl's brows knitted. "What happened to her?" She brushed past him.
"Just burns," Jasmine replied, shifting her arm to display the white wrap. She winced before coughing.
Lana grimaced. "Are you ok?"
"I am now. Is there anyone else?" he repeated.
She paused. "I... I don't know." Callie and Edward joined her by the table. She motioned to Callie. "We made it out with a group last night — Jess and Liv, plus some of the visitors." She swallowed hard. "Carl's dead."
Jasmine's ocean eyes flooded with water. Her plump lips opened and snapped shut again.
Edward asked, "How?"
"Bitten." She left out Joel and Tommy's involvement. In fact, she was trying to remove that part from her own knowledge. "Who else?" she questioned.
Edward's lips pressed into a solemn frown. "Too many. Seamus, Georgia, Dawn, and Jackson. I don't know where your mom and the rest are."
The information felt like a punch in the gut. Lana nodded, not entirely grasping it. "We'll find them." She mumbled it more to herself than anyone else.
"What's the backpack for?" Jasmine asked, grounding her before her worry spiraled.
"The group we got out with. They're at the hunting cabin," Lana explained. Her voice was soft. She felt breathless, but sucking air in was doing no good. "Come with us."
It didn't take much convincing. Lana told them they had only a few minutes to gather what they needed if they wanted to make the hike with her, Callie, and Joel. They opted to remain and join later. Callie advocated to stay with them. Lana felt little fight left in her after her sleepless night and stressful hours. She allowed it since they'd be at the cabin before nightfall.
Lana went alone to the gate to wait for Joel. She found him there, eyes raised to the sky. He looked at her once he heard her approaching.
"We found Jasmine and Edward," she informed him once she was close enough to talk quietly. The names probably meant little to him. She added, "The doctor and his daughter. They were in the clinic."
Joel nodded wordlessly. She wondered why he hadn't plundered the medical supplies but decided not to voice the question. There was plenty of medicine in the cabins — he probably took supplies from there.
She continued, "Callie wanted to stay with them." The request hadn't worried her at the time. She trusted Edward and Jasmine to keep her sister safe. Thinking about it now, though, made Lana uneasy. She couldn't place why, so she shoved the worry aside. She had enough to think about.
Joel didn't break his silence. It wasn't odd considering the past twenty-four hours, but it was unsatisfying. Lana didn't want to be left to her own devices on the walk back — it'd be excruciatingly quiet. She sighed.
A few minutes passed. Their walking pace had evened out to a steady march. Lana was itching to hear something that wasn't her footstep metronome. She filed through conversations she could start, landing on a topic that centered around earlier. She asked, "Why didn't you stay at the cabin?"
"Didn't want to."
"I don't think Tommy did either."
Joel grunted.
"So, what's the plan?" she tried.
"Don't know yet."
"Boston?"
"Don't know."
Lana rolled her eyes. He clearly wasn't going to distract her. She gave up, and the rest of the hike was depressing.
Callie, Jasmine, and Edward arrived as the last rays of golden sunlight faded. Lana tried not to let disappointment show on her face when she realized it was just the three of them. They carried backpacks of their own. Jasmine brought an extra one for Liv and Callie. Lana thanked her, taking it from her and adding it to the corner where the rest of the supplies were piled.
Lana joined her siblings on the floor. Their coats made a colorful rug to sit on. Lana reached for Liv's hand to stop her from playing with loose threads.
"What's wrong with her?" Lana heard Tommy ask, his eyes on Jasmine.
She stood with her coat in hand. "I got burned," she explained, her tone leaving little room for questions. Tommy accepted that answer, but Lana made a note to ask her more about it later.
An uncertain silence fell over the group, broken periodically by Jasmine's coughing and Jess' giggles. Lana wondered what the others were thinking despite not thinking much herself.
Edward cleared his throat, putting the spotlight on him. His forehead was creased. "What are we going to do?"
Lana hadn't gotten an answer to that earlier. She looked expectantly at Joel. His jaw clenched. Then the phrasing hit her — we? Lana tilted her head.
"Aren't we going back?" she asked, confusion in her blue eyes.
The man breathed deeply. He looked every bit like the doctor he was. His lips curved into a frown, a look spreading across his face that reminded Lana too much of the doctors who said grandma's cancer was terminal. Her organs knotted.
He said, "I don't think we should."
"Why? What about the others?" Lana demanded indignantly. She looked to Jasmine for backup, but her friend's gaze glued to the floor.
"Lana." He spoke softly, the tone dismal.
"No. What about my mom? What about Ben?"
"Lana," he tried again. "We can talk about it later. Going back isn't a good choice though."
She shook her head, her petulant pose reminding her too much of Jess. "You can go. I'm waiting. My family-"
"They're dead," Callie interrupted. Her removed tone reached her eyes, leaving her to look like a shell of a person.
"No, they're not," Lana denied. Her conviction fled as her jaw trembled. Maybe seeing was believing. She refused to accept it. She couldn't.
"We need to focus," Edward said, bowing his head. "Where do you three plan on going?"
Tommy looked at Joel, then Rachel. The latter had a vacant look in her eyes as she stared blankly at the floor before her. She looked small as she sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her chin rested on her arms. She barely shook her head. Lana wondered if she'd moved at all today.
"Boston," Joel answered roughly. He'd made the decision on his own.
Tommy shot a look at him. "That's not-"
"Boston." His tone was stern. "If you wanna get yourself killed after that, you do that alone, you got that?"
Lana recalled the argument she'd interrupted between the brothers a few days earlier. It felt so far away.
Tommy's mood darkened. "Fine."
Edward gazed out the window into the moonlit evening. "We leave tomorrow then. There's no point in lingering."
Lana wanted to argue. It'd do no good. Her options had been laid out before her — she could take her sisters and stay at the empty camp, waiting for any possible survivors to return, or she could follow the group she knew existed to Boston. Her heart screamed at her to stay; her head, to go. She felt pressure building behind her eyes. She wanted to cry.