Chapter Text
THE LAST OF US
ELLIE'S POINT OF VIEW
PROLOGUE
I squirmed uncomfortably on the bus seat (which you really should call a block of foam-- 95% stringy seat filling, 5% dried up leather), adjusting my thin white earbuds.
I watched the skinny-as-a-board lady stood up, the bus coming to a slow stop to the Boston quarantine zone. She held a clipboard in her hands, her fingernails long, the skin underneath soiled with cracks and dirt.
She began calling out people's names, her dry attribute losing my attention.
I glanced outside of the grimy window, a pair of soldier's gripping the two arms of man, kicking his knees out from under him. The soldier on the left held the scanner to the back of his neck for infection, the one on the right pressing the barrel of his gun to the side of the man's head.
Watching as the scanner beeps positive, the soldier on the right pulls the trigger without hesitation.
I clasp my hand over my mouth, instantly looking away as soon as I see his eyes roll back in his head. My stomach unsettles itself as I hear the sickening thump of his body, several kids on the bus shrieking.
"Kids, kids, hush." The lady waved it off routinely.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the soldiers dragging his body across the pungent rubble, taking him to who knows where.
"Ellie."
"..Ellie."
"Huh?" I say, drawing in a quick breath, whipping my head upwards.
She raises an eyebrow, purses her lips, and makes a mark on her clipboard.
63 names later
Everyone hustled and bustled to get off of the bus, hoisting bags over shoulders and jackets onto torsos.
I impatiently wait as the kids in front of me sluggishly get off, untwisting my headphones from my ears, placing them in my pocket.
"Ellie?" I hear a familiar male's voice say.
"Jerry?" I question, raising an eyebrow, looking around the crowd.
I feel a tap on my left shoulder, whipping around to see the familiar face. Short, buzz-cut hair covered by a helmet, tired blue marbles for eyes.
"Listen, kid. You can't pull any of your old stunts here, alright? I won't be here to look after you."
"What? Can't you take me with you?" I ask, hating to sound this desperate.
"I wish I could, but family comes first."
I bite the inside of my lip, drawing blood. "Fine. I can take care of my own damn self, then."
I watch as he walks away, the feeling bitter and cold in my stomach as I watch the only person to ever really care about me walked away. I didn't have a particularly strong bond with him, but a strong enough bond to keep me sheltered.
The majority of the content of the bus is almost inside, the unbelievably slow walking ridiculous.
I feel a hard tug on my bag, pulling me a bit backwards.
I look over my shoulder, my vision a frenzy, looking for the tugger.
A group of four-to-five boys my age is stood behind me, their grubby hands all reaching for my jacket pocket.
I pull back my elbow, launching it into one of their chests, surely to cause a bruise. Not even from the force of the blow, but the momumental lack of body weight on them, which everyone here had.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I shout, standing my ground, fists balled up a my sides.
"Keep your mouth shut, you little shit." The oldest-looking one snarls, his stubby hand reaching for my ponytail.
"Leave her alone, you fuck," A girl's voice demands, walking in from the building I was about to enter. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
This girl had dark skin, textured hair up in a tight ponytail, much different from mine, loose with my side bangs hanging out lazily. She was dressed in a red hoodie and jeans. She looked older than me, 16 at the oldest.
"Uh.." They all struggle to find a reason.
"Huh? What was that? What'd you call her again..?," She puts her finger to her chin, pretending to think. "Oh yeah! You little shit." She says brusquely. "Get out." She points a harsh finger to the school building entrance.
We both watch as they walk like a dog with it's tail between it's legs into the school, their heads hung low.
"What did those assholes want from you?" She asks, shaking her head at them.
"I'm pretty sure they were trying to steal my things." I blew out air between my lips, my eyebrows hanging high on my forehead for a moment.
"Well, it seems like you stood up for yourself. How do ya do in the military zone? Need any help at all?" she questions, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Eh." I say, making a hand motion as if waving off the subject.
Before she can respond to me, she has a sudden flash of panic in her eyes, uncrossing her arms. "Listen, new kid, I gotta run. I suggest you do, too."
"New kid?" I mumble, turning on my heels.
My expression goes blank as I see an adult right on my tail, the thought of fleeing gone from my mind.
"Come with me." He rudely says, walking inside.
I groan as loudly as I please, figuring if I'm going to get in trouble, might as well get my money's worth.
We wind through several corridors, reaching the closet-sized office he has.
"Name?" He asks, sitting down at his desk, gesturing to the chair across from him for me to sit in.
"Why should I tell you?" I quickly retaliate, refusing to sit down in his chair.
"Name?" He repeats, his tone more firm.
"Ellie." I bite the inside of my cheek, tearing at the loose skin.
He flips through manila folders, names scrawled messily on little tabs, practicing a habit I found disgusting - licking his fingers as he fingered through each one.
"Ah," He seperated mine from the rest, opening it. "Miss Ellie.. It seems.. you have quite the um.. attitude."
He began to tick off the amount of wrong-doings I'm responsible of on his fingers, my gaze on the split floorboards, not listening to him put of boredom.
"Miss," He says. "Cleaning duty. You may put your things in your room. Number 32."
32 rooms and a sponge later
I groan, squeezing the soaked sponge over the hood of the bloodied Jeep, the dried stuff seperating from the chipped paint.
I reached into my jacket pocket, only to discover it empty. I'm sure I put my Walkman in my pocket a while ago..
A sudden realization hits me. She stole it.
Recoiling, I noticed something I didn't expect-- an amputated finger lodged in the front left wheel. I gagged, pouring the contents of the half-empty bucket on the tire, slick and black.
I dropped the orange plastic bucket and (now pink) sponge in the mud, deciding it was 'good enough'.
Now to find that thief.
Mess Hall
"Give me back my Walkman." I demand, approaching the girl from earlier.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She says, shoveling cardboard-colored mashed potatoes into her mouth. He puts her hand above the pouch of her hoodie, almost protectively. Leaning my head to the left a bit, I can see one of my white earbuds peeking out from the edge of the fabric.
I point my index finger to her hoodie pocket, saying, "I see it right there. Give it back."
She swallows, rolling her eyes as she reaches into her pocket. "You have a shitty taste in music."
I intendedly snatched it from her cracked fingers, already worn out and exhausted from the day.
A bowl of stew and 32 rooms later
The cold pinches my skin, keeping me awake at the late hours of the night, the moonlight making its prescence well known through the blinds.
The nearly-mute footsteps outside my door would've been no bother, unless it wasn't past curfew and everyone was asleep.
I can only think that the girl is the one sneaking around the hallways.
I quietly swing my legs over the side, grabbing my jacket again, rolling the sleeves to my elbows, pulling off my sleep pants, replacing them with jeans, slipping on my sneakers. I tug my hair into it's usual dirty ponytail, stealthily walking towards my beaten up door, the wood rotting right through the dark paint.
I silently twist the doorknob, lifting it upward to make the door swing ajar.
As I guessed, I saw the girl's red hoodie slink halfway out of the main doorway. Figures.
"Hey!" I whisper-shout, loud enough for her to hear, but not enough for anyone else.
She whips her head backwards, evidently distraught at the sudden noise. "Fucking hell, new kid," She breathes out uneasily. "Go back to your room."
"No," I cross my arms, my feet solidly planted on the floor. "Show me a way out. And- stop calling me 'new kid'." I demand.
She sighs, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows before finally saying, "Fine. Think you can keep up?"
"Keeping up isn't an issue." I answer, following after her as she bolts out the door.
"Don't make me regret bringing you along, Ellie." She snarls, darting across the yard, towards the metal-looped gate.
"How'd you know my name?" I ask, puffing out struggled breaths, swinging my right leg over the side, the right leg following suit, dropping down onto a large rooftop.
"I got my ways. I'm Riley," She says. I can't tell if she's joking or not. "Ready for what's next?"
"Yep." I answer blindly, having no idea what I'm in for next.
She continues racing on, my feet barely keeping up until she abruptly stops.
"Is that," huff, "All you," huff, "Got?"
She turns around, facing my pathetic bent over body, out of breath and nearly wheezing.
"Do you ever think about your future?" She steadily questions, the milky moonlight reflecting off of her dark skin.
"What? You mean, like sci-fi?" I ask, my assumption was her being facetious.
"Do you ever think about your future. Like, what you want to do with your life?"
"Well, in a world like this, I don't think there's much of a future for anyone." I state, raising my eyebrow at the odd question.
Riley shakes her head, her chest softly rumbling with laughter. "That's exactly what authority wants you to think in the QZ."
"Well what do you want to do?" I ask a bit defensively, furrowing my eyebrows.
"I'm turning sixteen in about three months. Using that time to find out, I guess," she shrugs. "Ever ridden a horse?"
This girls weird. "No."
She walks to the edge of the rooftop we're on, climbing down the ladder (not-so-sturdily) placed on the crumbling brick. Halfway down, she uses one hand to hold open a window, swinging herself inside.
I do the same, careful not to bump into her arm that was propping the window open.
"Woah," I mumble, inspecting the area we were now in. Even though it obviously isn't at it's peek, its magnificent. There are windows with funny-postured mannequins, cage-like doors over entrances to shops, and a tiled floor with rubble sprinkled around it (otherwise slick).
I laugh to myself, amused by one certain mannequins appearance, it's hand sat boldly on it's plastic hip, the other on it's head, jutting out their left hip. Mocking it, I see Riley rolls her eyes, a small laugh emitting her closed mouth.
"Woah! Is that what I think it is?" I squeal, pointing at it.That's rare. I almost never squeal.
But standing right in front of me is a store with a sign that says 'Raja's Arcade'. It's one of the few shops that doesn't have the strange cage thing over the entrance.
"Wait, hold on a second!" I tell her, rushing quickly inside, recognizing one of the consoles. "It's Triple Pheonix! I remember this! It's a three-player. It was based off of a cartoon about mutated pigeons. Sounds dumb, I know, but its super popular."
"Pfft. That's nothing. The Turning is what it's all about. The main character is this chick called Angel Knives- she'd punch a hole through your stomach, then kick your head off." She grinned.
"Aw, man. I wish we could have these working.. They were so lucky back then." I jut out my bottom lip, putting my hand on one hip.
"Come on," She says almost immediately after. "We're wasting time."
I follow after her as she walks out, imagining what the arcade would've been like before the infection.
I bet there were alot of kids there, annoyed parents, greasy cheeseburgers, scattered quarters, the screens all lit up, joyous faces of children on their tippy-toes as they jerked the joysticks back and forth, mashing the buttons. What I would give to be there..
"Hey, Winston." Riley's voice snaps me back to reality.
Riley is approaching a man who seems to be in his late-thirties, a fluffy hat over his head, a uniform on his body. He's sat in a corner on top of a mttress, soiled and defiled. Not that anything is really clean anymore. He's got a single lanternsat by his knee, empty cans of beans and peaches scattered along the floor around him.
He quickly stands, his eyes shuffling towards me, then returning to Riley. "Who's she?" He points (not-so-subtly) towards me. "You know this'll only cause me trouble."
I nervously rub on my arm, averting my eyes from them.
"She's cool, don't worry," She persists. "Winston, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Winston."
"Hi." I say, extending my arm towards him, shaking his hand.
"Listen, this girl doesn't know how to ride a horse," She says. "I'll give you whiskey." She singsongs the last part, her voice rising into a ting.
"Fine." He chuckles. He seems kind, but maybe a bit paranoid. "Lets take her to the 'stables'." He uses air quotations.
Winston walks ahead of Riley and I, my feet scuffing the tile as she explains how to act around the horses.
"It really depends on what kind a' horse you've got. They all get spooked pretty easily, but some are nicer than others. You need to be calm, and you can't really make abrupt movements or sudden sounds. Pretty much, just be careful. And Winston- make sure to take her around the whole mall."
That receives a grunt.
We reach the make-do 'stables', which really- is just a pair of horses tied up to doorhandles. They both look pleasantly calm, their large eyes shiny and almost endearing.
Riley begins to dust off the creamy tan one's leather saddle, a question popping up in my mind.
"Are you trying to cause trouble? Just to get out of the Quarantine Zone?" I question as she places the saddle on it's back.
"Well, you know, I'd rather not have a shitty life with next-to-nothing rations and jobs." She states firmly, looping the bridle on it's face, attatching the leather strap to Winston's hand.
He helps my foot into the saddle, lifting me up so my right foot meets the other side.
"Behave." He warns Riley.
The horse's hooves clop in otherwise silence, his mane tangled and plasticy.
"What was it like? Before it all went to shit?" I ask, looking for something to chat about.
"Goodness.. Let's see if I can remember," He jokingly laughs. "I remember skipping school. A lot. Whether it was to play hooky and lay around all day, or come to the mall with a group of friends. Even though we got caught all the time, we still went back. Almost every Friday, in fact. We'd go to that arcade, Raja's, I think it was called? Anywho, we'd hide in the bathrooms during class, write the dumbest graffitti you could imagine on the bathroom stalls. Oh man, those were good times.." He goes on, enthralled by revisiting those memories, leaving him with a deep smile on his face.
The trip was probably ten minutes, until we came back to find Riley on his mattress, reading a magazine.
"Thanks for bringing me." I smile greatfully, dismounting the horse, a nod coming from her as she stands.
I feel a rumble in my chest, lasting miliseconds before a loud boom swallows up my field of hearing. I feel a sudden shock of panic and fright saturating my senses.
"I've gotta go!," Winston hollers over the boom. "Go back to the QZ!"
He quickly ties up the horse, disappearing as Riley ignoring his orders.
I turn to her, seeing her hands fiddling with a walkie-talkie, most likely Winston's.
Somehow, over the now-fading boom, we both hear the six words scruffily spoken through the speakers.
"Fireflies in the area. Move, move!"
Riley's eyes perk up instantly, the sides of her mouth turning up, the first real smile I've seen from her. "Let's go! Come on, we have to see them!"
"What the fuck? Are you insane?" I hiss, watching her spring up, dashing back up to the rooftop.
I stand in awe, my feet getting ahead of my decision, sprinting towards her.
I find Riley on the roof, her arms supporting her weight, perched near the edge, watching the chaos go down.
Joining her, I see the military's tanks, rolling in over limp, lifeless bodies, shooting aimlessly into the crowd of Fireflies.
Fireflies were carrying their wounded, their dead, lessening their group size.
"Shit," Riley hisses. "We've gotta help them." I watch as she digs into her hoodie pocket, a copious amount of smoke bombs in her palm.
I grin slyly, the both of us tossing the bombs at the military, blocking their view of the Fireflies.
Once our hands are empty and the smoke has half-way cleared, Riley and I cheered like little girls who just got their first Barbie.
I duck as soon as I hear the first shot swell the air, the military opening fire at us.
Riley does the same, gesturing me to follow her as we make our way back down to the mall window.
"Shit," I breathe heavily, my hands on my knees. "That was close."
"No kidding." She sighs.
"Riley, look out!" I scream, a runner homing in on her.
I watch, my fingers fumbling in my jeans pocket for something, anything.
The runner's gnashing teeth attatch themselves to her left hoodie sleeve, tearing the fabric from her arm, using her elbow to hit him in the horrid face.
His attention is soon gone from Riley, but now focused on me. He staggers toward me, pinning me to the ground by the shoulders.
My stomach churns, my hands clasping themselves around his neck, squeezing as hard as I could, his steamy, rotten breath permeating the air.
His eyes are milky marbles, his skin beginning to grow fungus on the outside, the outside of his lips crusted with brown blood, bone dry.
I feel terrified. I'm going to become that. I'm going to lose my mind, and I'm going to be just like them. I can't fight him off. Can I?
"Hey fucker!" Riley screams, throwing what sounds like a handful of rubble at the back of his head. "Ellie, move to your right!"
I do as told, using my legs to push him away from me.
Riley picks up a heavy brick, throwing it at the back of his head. He collapses, my eyes avert from the aftermath.
"Are you okay?" I almost wail, catching my breath.
"Yeah.. Yeah, I'm fine. Just ripped my sleeve, is all." She said, wiping her forehead.
"Uh.." I point behind her, a group of Fireflies walking up behind her.
She turns around, ready to strike again, seeing it was not infected, but Fireflies.
The one in front uses his elbow to hit her in the head, knocking her unconcscious.
"What the fuck?," I scream, running to the man, pushing him forcefully in the chest. "You douchebag!" I punch his cheek, being pinned down for the second time in a single minute.
"No!" I scream, kicking and flailing my legs, trying to hit whatever I could.
I feel a dry, brittle rope bound around my wrists and ankles, a bag placed around my head.
I continue to scream, my only defense left.
Two Hours Later
"Should we?"
"I dunno man. Seems sketchy."
"It's not worth it."
"We might get something out of it, come on! Marlene won't find out."
I wake up to this conversation, my eyes open but only seeing darkness.
I begin to shake the bag around on my head, hoping they won't notice, successfully regaining my vision.
I squint at the sidden brightness, the first thing coming to attention is Riley. I see her tied up and face covered in the same way, still asleep.
I wriggle my hands around, shuddering at the dry feeling of rope, something I've always hated.
My hands are finally set free, sore and scratchy.
I glance back and forth between a shard of glass and the group of arguing Fireflies, my fingers almost touching the shattered piece of window.
A woman walks in, tall and subtly broad-shouldered, her black, frizzy curls pulled into a low, short ponytail, her skin color matching Riley's, a medium caramel color.
"Marlene, Is Kerry going to be okay?" One worriedly asks, folding his hands, almost as if in prayer.
"Yeah, doctors say she's got a good chance of survival. She'll be fine." She softly smiles.
Marlene walks towards me, raising an eyebrow at the bag and the rope limp on the floor.
I extend my legs towards her, silently demanding them to be cut free.
"Untie her." I point at Riley from across the wall.
She nods, gesturing one of the Fireflies from the group over to Ellie.
'Marlene' digs into her back pocket, pulling out a folded envelope, dropping it on the ground next to me.
"Open that when you get back to the QZ." She orders.
I nod, silent as I inspect the envelope, hearing Riley begin to argue with her.
The envelope's paper is brittle, the edges stained with who-knows-what, the pen on the outside bleeding into a light blue color.
'Ellie' it says.
My head darts up as soon as I hear the door burst open, three men pouring in, hunched over their guns.
"Listen up," the one in front gruffly sneers. "You used one o' our tunnels. You gotta pay a toll."
The room goes silent. Not one of us speaks, no one moves a single muscle.
The man in front cocks his gun, and that's when I know I need to move.
I tug on Riley's hand, hearing the first shot fired, heading towards the gaping hole in the wall.
"No!" Riley says, pulling away from me. She runs near the man on the right from me, heading for the pistol on the ground.
She's crazy. She's actually insane.
Riley's just about to grab it, but the man she's near grabs her viciously by the hood, tugging her backwards, threateningly putting the barrel of the gun to her head.
I pick up a brick, throwing it at the dickhead's neck. He loosens his grip on her hood, turning towards me.
Riley grabs the gun, shooting him in the foot, causing him to collapse.
Marlene runs over, stepping on his neck, and as soon as he opens his eyes, shoots his head.
I feel a pair of hands reach for my shoulders, looking behind me to see it's only a Firefly. But a douche-y one.
I watch as the other two men were shot down, Riley and Marlene arguing once more.
"You know, we could've just joined up! Don't know why you had to make it so fucking hard!" RIley screeches, Prompting Marlene to raise her gun.
"I will kill you." She threatens.
I bite the Firefly's hand, their pistol clattering to the ground.
I grab it, standing and pointing it at Marlene, walking closer to them.
"I wasn't actually planning to shoot her. I have some morals left. Killing children isn't something I intend to do."
Riley rolls her eyes at her 'children' comment, Marlene pointing the pistol towards the ceiling.
She pulls the trigger, a warning shot. "Ellie."
"How do you know my name?" I demand, still not lowering the gun.
"She knew your mother," Riley whispers. "..That envelope..."
"Your mother wanted someone to look after you. And I did that. I got people.. Like Riley to do that." Marlene says, monotonously.
I glance towards Riley, her brown eyes solid with truth.
"What do I do?" I ask her.
"Lower the gun."
I slowly lower the gun, my arms heavy and tired, placing it in Marlene's hands.
"Her name was Anna," She says, shaking her head, looking blindly at the ground. "..I'll tell you more.. Just- not now."
She points to the outside window, a ladder hanging over the ledge. "Goes right to the back of the school."
"Before you go- Ellie, take this." She holds out a what looks like a folded switchblade. "It was hers."
I take if from her cracked fingers, opening it. It glides open smoothly and is shiny and sleek, not showing it's age.
"Thanks." I look up at her.
Marlene nods, leaving the room as well as the rest of the Fireflies.
Riley hops out of the window, onto the next rooftop. I follow after, her waiting for me at the bottom.
"There isn't a way out from here, you know, Unless you want to climb the rooftops again. The ladder doesn't lead anywhere for shit." She crosses her arms.
I groan, looking at the sky. It's beginning to get a hazy, half-asleep blue.
"Maybe we should just bail." I suggest.
"Bail? You mean, like- run away?" She uncrosses her arms, letting them swing at her sides.
"Yeah." I shrug, lazily tightening my ponytail.
She scoffs. "That's just another way to die. As if we didn't have enough."
She begins to walk the same path that we did when we ventured into the mall, walking across the rooftops this time instead of running.
The breeze is light and refreshing in the wee hours. I decide once I get back to my room, I'll read the note.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?" Riley says as we approach the front of the school.
"Okay." I say, watching her run up the stairs to her room.
32 rooms later
I plug my headphones into my Walkman, playing a random song I was neutral about. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the envelope and the switchblade, putting the blade in my lap.
I carefully unfold the envelope, lifting out a fragile piece of paper, beginning to read.
I'm going to share a secret with you. I'm not a big fan of kids and I hate babies. And yet....I'm staring at you and I'm awestruck.
You're not even a day old, and holding you is the most incredible thing I've done in my life, a life that is about to get cut a little short.
Marlene will look after you. There's no one in this world I trust more than her. When the time comes she'll tell you all about me. Don't give her too much of a hard time. Try not to be as stubborn as me.
"That's a little late, mom." I chuckle a bit.
I'm not going to lie, this is a pretty messed up world. It won't be easy. The thing you always have to remember is that, "life is worth living! Find your purpose and fight for it."
I see so much strength in you. I know you'll turn out to be the woman you're meant to be.
Forever... Your loving mother,
Anna
Make me proud, Ellie!
I smile. I don't feel the least bit sad. Maybe it's because I never really knew her, or maybe it's because she had so much faith in me, even though I was only a baby.
I hold the letter to my chest, along with the closed switchblade.
"I love you, mom."
THE NEXT DAY
=THE LAST OF US
ELLIE'S POINT OF VIEW
PROLOGUE
I squirmed uncomfortably on the bus seat (which you really should call a block of foam-- 95% stringy seat filling, 5% dried up leather), adjusting my thin white earbuds.
I watched the skinny-as-a-board lady stood up, the bus coming to a slow stop to the Boston quarantine zone. She held a clipboard in her hands, her fingernails long, the skin underneath soiled with cracks and dirt.
She began calling out people's names, her dry attribute losing my attention.
I glanced outside of the grimy window, a pair of soldier's gripping the two arms of man, kicking his knees out from under him. The soldier on the left held the scanner to the back of his neck for infection, the one on the right pressing the barrel of his gun to the side of the man's head.
Watching as the scanner beeps positive, the soldier on the right pulls the trigger without hesitation.
I clasp my hand over my mouth, instantly looking away as soon as I see his eyes roll back in his head. My stomach unsettles itself as I hear the sickening thump of his body, several kids on the bus shrieking.
"Kids, kids, hush." The lady waved it off routinely.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the soldiers dragging his body across the pungent rubble, taking him to who knows where.
"Ellie."
"..Ellie."
"Huh?" I say, drawing in a quick breath, whipping my head upwards.
She raises an eyebrow, purses her lips, and makes a mark on her clipboard.
63 names later
Everyone hustled and bustled to get off of the bus, hoisting bags over shoulders and jackets onto torsos.
I impatiently wait as the kids in front of me sluggishly get off, untwisting my headphones from my ears, placing them in my pocket.
"Ellie?" I hear a familiar male's voice say.
"Jerry?" I question, raising an eyebrow, looking around the crowd.
I feel a tap on my left shoulder, whipping around to see the familiar face. Short, buzz-cut hair covered by a helmet, tired blue marbles for eyes.
"Listen, kid. You can't pull any of your old stunts here, alright? I won't be here to look after you."
"What? Can't you take me with you?" I ask, hating to sound this desperate.
"I wish I could, but family comes first."
I bite the inside of my lip, drawing blood. "Fine. I can take care of my own damn self, then."
I watch as he walks away, the feeling bitter and cold in my stomach as I watch the only person to ever really care about me walked away. I didn't have a particularly strong bond with him, but a strong enough bond to keep me sheltered.
The majority of the content of the bus is almost inside, the unbelievably slow walking ridiculous.
I feel a hard tug on my bag, pulling me a bit backwards.
I look over my shoulder, my vision a frenzy, looking for the tugger.
A group of four-to-five boys my age is stood behind me, their grubby hands all reaching for my jacket pocket.
I pull back my elbow, launching it into one of their chests, surely to cause a bruise. Not even from the force of the blow, but the momumental lack of body weight on them, which everyone here had.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I shout, standing my ground, fists balled up a my sides.
"Keep your mouth shut, you little shit." The oldest-looking one snarls, his stubby hand reaching for my ponytail.
"Leave her alone, you fuck," A girl's voice demands, walking in from the building I was about to enter. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
This girl had dark skin, textured hair up in a tight ponytail, much different from mine, loose with my side bangs hanging out lazily. She was dressed in a red hoodie and jeans. She looked older than me, 16 at the oldest.
"Uh.." They all struggle to find a reason.
"Huh? What was that? What'd you call her again..?," She puts her finger to her chin, pretending to think. "Oh yeah! You little shit." She says brusquely. "Get out." She points a harsh finger to the school building entrance.
We both watch as they walk like a dog with it's tail between it's legs into the school, their heads hung low.
"What did those assholes want from you?" She asks, shaking her head at them.
"I'm pretty sure they were trying to steal my things." I blew out air between my lips, my eyebrows hanging high on my forehead for a moment.
"Well, it seems like you stood up for yourself. How do ya do in the military zone? Need any help at all?" she questions, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Eh." I say, making a hand motion as if waving off the subject.
Before she can respond to me, she has a sudden flash of panic in her eyes, uncrossing her arms. "Listen, new kid, I gotta run. I suggest you do, too."
"New kid?" I mumble, turning on my heels.
My expression goes blank as I see an adult right on my tail, the thought of fleeing gone from my mind.
"Come with me." He prudely says, walking inside.
I groan as loudly as I please, figuring if I'm going to get in trouble, might as well get my money's worth.
We wind through several corridors, reaching the closet-sized office he has.
"Name?" He asks, sitting down at his desk, gesturing to the chair across from him for me to sit in.
"Why should I tell you?" I quickly retaliate, refusing to sit down in his chair.
"Name?" He repeats, his tone more firm.
"Ellie." I bite the inside of my cheek, tearing at the loose skin.
He flips through manila folders, names scrawled messily on little tabs, practicing a habit I found disgusting - licking his fingers as he fingered through each one.
"Ah," He seperated mine from the rest, opening it. "Miss Ellie.. It seems.. you have quite the um.. attitude."
He began to tick off the amount of wrong-doings I'm responsible of on his fingers, my gaze on the split floorboards, not listening to him put of boredom.
"Miss," He says. "Cleaning duty. You may put your things in your room. Number 32."
32 rooms and a sponge later
I groan, squeezing the soaked sponge over the hood of the bloodied Jeep, the dried stuff seperating from the chipped paint.
I reached into my jacket pocket, only to discover it empty. I'm sure I put my Walkman in my pocket a while ago..
A sudden realization hits me. She stole it.
Recoiling, I noticed something I didn't expect-- an amputated finger lodged in the front left wheel. I gagged, pouring the contents of the half-empty bucket on the tire, slick and black.
I dropped the orange plastic bucket and (now pink) sponge in the mud, deciding it was 'good enough'.
Now to find that thief.
Mess Hall
"Give me back my Walkman." I demand, approaching the girl from earlier.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She says, shoveling cardboard-colored mashed potatoes into her mouth. He puts her hand above the pouch of her hoodie, almost protectively. Leaning my head to the left a bit, I can see one of my white earbuds peeking out from the edge of the fabric.
I point my index finger to her hoodie pocket, saying, "I see it right there. Give it back."
She swallows, rolling her eyes as she reaches into her pocket. "You have a shitty taste in music."
I intendedly snatched it from her cracked fingers, already worn out and exhausted from the day.
A bowl of stew and 32 rooms later
The cold pinches my skin, keeping me awake at the late hours of the night, the moonlight making its prescence well known through the blinds.
The nearly-mute footsteps outside my door would've been no bother, unless it wasn't past curfew and everyone was asleep.
I can only think that the girl is the one sneaking around the hallways.
I quietly swing my legs over the side, grabbing my jacket again, rolling the sleeves to my elbows, pulling off my sleep pants, replacing them with jeans, slipping on my sneakers. I tug my hair into it's usual dirty ponytail, stealthily walking towards my beaten up door, the wood rotting right through the dark paint.
I silently twist the doorknob, lifting it upward to make the door swing ajar.
As I guessed, I saw the girl's red hoodie slink halfway out of the main doorway. Figures.
"Hey!" I whisper-shout, loud enough for her to hear, but not enough for anyone else.
She whips her head backwards, evidently distraught at the sudden noise. "Fucking hell, new kid," She breathes out uneasily. "Go back to your room."
"No," I cross my arms, my feet solidly planted on the floor. "Show me a way out. And- stop calling me 'new kid'." I demand.
She sighs, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows before finally saying, "Fine. Think you can keep up?"
"Keeping up isn't an issue." I answer, following after her as she bolts out the door.
"Don't make me regret bringing you along, Ellie." She snarls, darting across the yard, towards the metal-looped gate.
"How'd you know my name?" I ask, puffing out struggled breaths, swinging my right leg over the side, the right leg following suit, dropping down onto a large rooftop.
"I got my ways. I'm Riley," She says. I can't tell if she's joking or not. "Ready for what's next?"
"Yep." I answer blindly, having no idea what I'm in for next.
She continues racing on, my feet barely keeping up until she abruptly stops.
"Is that," huff, "All you," huff, "Got?"
She turns around, facing my pathetic bent over body, out of breath and nearly wheezing.
"Do you ever think about your future?" She steadily questions, the milky moonlight reflecting off of her dark skin.
"What? You mean, like sci-fi?" I ask, my assumption was her being facetious.
"Cute. Do you ever think about your future. Like, what you want to do with your life?"
"Well, in a world like this, I don't think there's much of a future for anyone." I state, raising my eyebrow at the odd question.
Riley shakes her head, her chest softly rumbling with laughter. "That's exactly what authority wants you to think in the QZ."
"Well what do you want to do?" I ask a bit defensively, furrowing my eyebrows.
"I'm turning sixteen in about three months. Using that time to find out, I guess," she shrugs. "Ever ridden a horse?"
This girls weird. "No."
She walks to the edge of the rooftop we're on, climbing down the ladder (not-so-sturdily) placed on the crumbling brick. Halfway down, she uses one hand to hold open a window, swinging herself inside.
I do the same, careful not to bump into her arm that was propping the window open.
"Woah," I mumble, inspecting the area we were now in. Even though it obviously isn't at it's peek, its magnificent. There are windows with funny-postured mannequins, cage-like doors over entrances to shops, and a tiled floor with rubble sprinkled around it (otherwise slick).
I laugh to myself, amused by one certain mannequins appearance, it's hand sat boldly on it's plastic hip, the other on it's head, jutting out their left hip. Mocking it, I see Riley rolls her eyes, a small laugh emitting her closed mouth.
"Woah! Is that what I think it is?" I squeal, pointing at it.That's rare. I almost never squeal.
But standing right in front of me is a store with a sign that says 'Raja's Arcade'. It's one of the few shops that doesn't have the strange cage thing over the entrance.
"Wait, hold on a second!" I tell her, rushing quickly inside, recognizing one of the consoles. "It's Triple Pheonix! I remember this! It's a three-player. It was based off of a cartoon about mutated pigeons. Sounds dumb, I know, but its super popular."
"Pfft. That's nothing. The Turning is what it's all about. The main character is this chick called Angel Knives- she'd punch a hole through your stomach, then kick your head off." She grinned.
"Aw, man. I wish we could have these working.. They were so lucky back then." I jut out my bottom lip, putting my hand on one hip.
"Come on," She says almost immediately after. "We're wasting time."
I follow after her as she walks out, imagining what the arcade would've been like before the infection.
I bet there were alot of kids there, annoyed parents, greasy cheeseburgers, scattered quarters, the screens all lit up, joyous faces of children on their tippy-toes as they jerked the joysticks back and forth, mashing the buttons. What I would give to be there..
"Hey, Winston." Riley's voice snaps me back to reality.
Riley is approaching a man who seems to be in his late-thirties, a fluffy hat over his head, a uniform on his body. He's sat in a corner on top of a mttress, soiled and defiled. Not that anything is really clean anymore. He's got a single lanternsat by his knee, empty cans of beans and peaches scattered along the floor around him.
He quickly stands, his eyes shuffling towards me, then returning to Riley. "Who's she?" He points (not-so-subtly) towards me. "You know this'll only cause me trouble."
I nervously rub on my arm, averting my eyes from them.
"She's cool, don't worry," She persists. "Winston, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Winston."
"Hi." I say, extending my arm towards him, shaking his hand.
"Listen, this girl doesn't know how to ride a horse," She says. "I'll give you whiskey." She singsongs the last part, her voice rising into a ting.
"Fine." He chuckles. He seems kind, but maybe a bit paranoid. "Lets take her to the 'stables'." He uses air quotations.
Winston walks ahead of Riley and I, my feet scuffing the tile as she explains how to act around the horses.
"It really depends on what kind a' horse you've got. They all get spooked pretty easily, but some are nicer than others. You need to be calm, and you can't really make abrupt movements or sudden sounds. Pretty much, just be careful. And Winston- make sure to take her around the whole mall."
That receives a grunt.
We reach the make-do 'stables', which really- is just a pair of horses tied up to doorhandles. They both look pleasantly calm, their large eyes shiny and almost endearing.
Riley begins to dust off the creamy tan one's leather saddle, a question popping up in my mind.
"Are you trying to cause trouble? Just to get out of the Quarantine Zone?" I question as she places the saddle on it's back.
"Well, you know, I'd rather not have a shitty life with next-to-nothing rations and jobs." She states firmly, looping the bridle on it's face, attatching the leather strap to Winston's hand.
He helps my foot into the saddle, lifting me up so my right foot meets the other side.
"Behave." He warns Riley.
The horse's hooves clop in otherwise silence, his mane tangled and plasticy.
"What was it like? Before it all went to shit?" I ask, looking for something to chat about.
"Goodness.. Let's see if I can remember," He jokingly laughs. "I remember skipping school. A lot. Whether it was to play hooky and lay around all day, or come to the mall with a group of friends. Even though we got caught all the time, we still went back. Almost every Friday, in fact. We'd go to that arcade, Raja's, I think it was called? Anywho, we'd hide in the bathrooms during class, write the dumbest graffitti you could imagine on the bathroom stalls. Oh man, those were good times.." He goes on, enthralled by revisiting those memories, leaving him with a deep smile on his face.
The trip was probably ten minutes, until we came back to find Riley on his mattress, reading a magazine.
"Thanks for bringing me." I smile greatfully, dismounting the horse, a nod coming from her as she stands.
I feel a rumble in my chest, lasting miliseconds before a loud boom swallows up my field of hearing. I feel a sudden shock of panic and fright saturating my senses.
"I've gotta go!," Winston hollers over the boom. "Go back to the QZ!"
He quickly ties up the horse, disappearing as Riley ignoring his orders.
I turn to her, seeing her hands fiddling with a walkie-talkie, most likely Winston's.
Somehow, over the now-fading boom, we both hear the six words scruffily spoken through the speakers.
"Fireflies in the area. Move, move!"
Riley's eyes perk up instantly, the sides of her mouth turning up, the first real smile I've seen from her. "Let's go! Come on, we have to see them!"
"What the fuck? Are you insane?" I hiss, watching her spring up, dashing back up to the rooftop.
I stand in awe, my feet getting ahead of my decision, sprinting towards her.
I find Riley on the roof, her arms supporting her weight, perched near the edge, watching the chaos go down.
Joining her, I see the military's tanks, rolling in over limp, lifeless bodies, shooting aimlessly into the crowd of Fireflies.
Fireflies were carrying their wounded, their dead, lessening their group size.
"Shit," Riley hisses. "We've gotta help them." I watch as she digs into her hoodie pocket, a copious amount of smoke bombs in her palm.
I grin slyly, the both of us tossing the bombs at the military, blocking their view of the Fireflies.
Once our hands are empty and the smoke has half-way cleared, Riley and I cheered like little girls who just got their first Barbie.
I duck as soon as I hear the first shot swell the air, the military opening fire at us.
Riley does the same, gesturing me to follow her as we make our way back down to the mall window.
"Shit," I breathe heavily, my hands on my knees. "That was close."
"No kidding." She sighs.
"Riley, look out!" I scream, a runner homing in on her.
I watch, my fingers fumbling in my jeans pocket for my switchblade, realizing I'd left it back in my room.
The runner's gnashing teeth attatch themselves to her left hoodie sleeve, tearing the fabric from her arm, using her elbow to hit him in the horrid face.
His attention is soon gone from Riley, but now focused on me. He staggers toward me, pinning me to the ground by the shoulders.
My stomach churns, my hands clasping themselves around his neck, squeezing as hard as I could, his steamy, rotten breath permeating the air.
His eyes are milky marbles, his skin beginning to grow fungus on the outside, the outside of his lips crusted with brown blood, bone dry.
I feel terrified. I'm going to become that. I'm going to lose my mind, and I'm going to be just like them. I can't fight him off. Can I?
"Hey fucker!" Riley screams, throwing what sounds like a handful of rubble at the back of his head. "Ellie, move to your right!"
I do as told, using my legs to push him away from me.
Riley picks up a heavy brick, throwing it at the back of his head. He collapses, my eyes avert from the aftermath.
"Are you okay?" I almost wail, catching my breath.
"Yeah.. Yeah, I'm fine. Just ripped my sleeve, is all." She said, wiping her forehead.
"Uh.." I point behind her, a group of Fireflies walking up behind her.
She turns around, ready to strike again, seeing it was not infected, but Fireflies.
The one in front uses his elbow to hit her in the head, knocking her unconcscious.
"What the fuck?," I scream, running to the man, pushing him forcefully in the chest. "You douchebag!" I punch his cheek, being pinned down for the second time in a single minute.
"No!" I scream, kicking and flailing my legs, trying to hit whatever I could.
I feel a dry, brittle rope bound around my wrists and ankles, a bag placed around my head.
I continue to scream, my only defense left.
Two Hours Later
"Should we?"
"I dunno man. Seems sketchy."
"It's not worth it."
"We might get something out of it, come on! Marlene won't find out."
I wake up to this conversation, my eyes open but only seeing darkness.
I begin to shake the bag around on my head, hoping they won't notice, successfully regaining my vision.
I squint at the sidden brightness, the first thing coming to attention is Riley. I see her tied up and face covered in the same way, still asleep.
I wriggle my hands around, shuddering at the dry feeling of rope, something I've always hated.
My hands are finally set free, sore and scratchy.
I glance back and forth between a shard of glass and the group of arguing Fireflies, my fingers almost touching the shattered piece of window.
A woman walks in, tall and subtly broad-shouldered, her black, frizzy curls pulled into a low, short ponytail, her skin color matching Riley's, a medium caramel color.
"Marlene, Is Kerry going to be okay?" One worriedly asks, folding his hands, almost as if in prayer.
"Yeah, doctors say she's got a good chance of survival. She'll be fine." She softly smiles.
Marlene walks towards me, raising an eyebrow at the bag and the rope limp on the floor.
I extend my legs towards her, silently demanding them to be cut free.
"Untie her." I point at Riley from across the wall.
She nods, gesturing one of the Fireflies from the group over to Ellie.
'Marlene' digs into her back pocket, pulling out a folded envelope, dropping it on the ground next to me.
"Open that when you get back to the QZ." She orders.
I nod, silent as I inspect the envelope, hearing Riley begin to argue with her.
The envelope's paper is brittle, the edges stained with who-knows-what, the pen on the outside bleeding into a light blue color.
'Ellie' it says.
My head darts up as soon as I hear the door burst open, three men pouring in, hunched over their guns.
"Listen up," the one in front gruffly sneers. "You used one o' our tunnels. You gotta pay a toll."
The room goes silent. Not one of us speaks, no one moves a single muscle.
The man in front cocks his gun, and that's when I know I need to move.
I tug on Riley's hand, hearing the first shot fired, heading towards the gaping hole in the wall.
"No!" Riley says, pulling away from me. She runs near the man on the right from me, heading for the pistol on the ground.
She's crazy. She's actually insane.
Riley's just about to grab it, but the man she's near grabs her viciously by the hood, tugging her backwards, threateningly putting the barrel of the gun to her head.
I pick up a brick, throwing it at the dickhead's neck. He loosens his grip on her hood, turning towards me.
Riley grabs the gun, shooting him in the foot, causing him to collapse.
Marlene runs over, stepping on his neck, and as soon as he opens his eyes, shoots his head.
I feel a pair of hands reach for my shoulders, looking behind me to see it's only a Firefly. But a douche-y one.
I watch as the other two men were shot down, Riley and Marlene arguing once more.
"You know, we could've just joined up! Don't know why you had to make it so fucking hard!" RIley screeches, Prompting Marlene to raise her gun.
"I will kill you." She threatens.
I bite the Firefly's hand, their pistol clattering to the ground.
I grab it, standing and pointing it at Marlene, walking closer to them.
"I wasn't actually planning to shoot her. I have some morals left. Killing children isn't something I intend to do."
Riley rolls her eyes at her 'children' comment, Marlene pointing the pistol towards the ceiling.
She pulls the trigger, a warning shot. "Ellie."
"How do you know my name?" I demand, still not lowering the gun.
"She knew your mother," Riley whispers. "..That envelope..."
"Your mother wanted someone to look after you. And I did that. I got people.. Like Riley to do that." Marlene says, monotonously.
I glance towards Riley, her brown eyes solid with truth.
"What do I do?" I ask her.
"Lower the gun."
I slowly lower the gun, my arms heavy and tired, placing it in Marlene's hands.
"Her name was Anna," She says, shaking her head, looking blindly at the ground. "..I'll tell you more.. Just- not now."
She points to the outside window, a ladder hanging over the ledge. "Goes right to the back of the school."
"Before you go- Ellie, take this." She holds out a what looks like a folded switchblade. "It was hers."
I take if from her cracked fingers, opening it. It glides open smoothly and is shiny and sleek, not showing it's age.
"Thanks." I look up at her.
Marlene nods, leaving the room as well as the rest of the Fireflies.
Riley hops out of the window, onto the next rooftop. I follow after, her waiting for me at the bottom.
"There isn't a way out from here, you know, Unless you want to climb the rooftops again. The ladder doesn't lead anywhere for shit." She crosses her arms.
I groan, looking at the sky. It's beginning to get a hazy, half-asleep blue.
"Maybe we should just bail." I suggest.
"Bail? You mean, like- run away?" She uncrosses her arms, letting them swing at her sides.
"Yeah." I shrug, lazily tightening my ponytail.
She scoffs. "That's just another way to die. As if we didn't have enough."
She begins to walk the same path that we did when we ventured into the mall, walking across the rooftops this time instead of running.
The breeze is light and refreshing in the wee hours. I decide once I get back to my room, I'll read the note.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?" Riley says as we approach the front of the school.
"Okay." I say, watching her run up the stairs to her room.
32 rooms later
I plug my headphones into my Walkman, playing a random song I was neutral about. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the envelope and the switchblade, putting the blade in my lap.
I carefully unfold the envelope, lifting out a fragile piece of paper, beginning to read.
I'm going to share a secret with you. I'm not a big fan of kids and I hate babies. And yet....I'm staring at you and I'm awestruck.
You're not even a day old, and holding you is the most incredible thing I've done in my life, a life that is about to get cut a little short.
Marlene will look after you. There's no one in this world I trust more than her. When the time comes she'll tell you all about me. Don't give her too much of a hard time. Try not to be as stubborn as me.
"That's a little late, mom." I chuckle a bit.
I'm not going to lie, this is a pretty messed up world. It won't be easy. The thing you always have to remember is that, "life is worth living! Find your purpose and fight for it."
I see so much strength in you. I know you'll turn out to be the woman you're meant to be.
Forever... Your loving mother,
Anna
Make me proud, Ellie!
I smile. I don't feel the least bit sad. Maybe it's because I never really knew her, or maybe it's because she had so much faith in me, even though I was only a baby.
I hold the letter to my chest, along with the closed switchblade.
"I love you, mom."
THE NEXT NIGHT
Riley and I climb the rooftops past the mall, just to venture out and see what we can find.
"What'd you think of your mom's letter?" Riley asks, kicking along a stone.
"It wasn't what I expected. She sounded pretty positive for this shithole of a world. Or she was pretending for my sake." I shrug, following after."Marlene told me she was a great woman. She loved you alot." Riley smiled. I crack a half-grin, nodding my head. "I bet she was."
A few secondsof silence dawn on us, appreciating the sudden peace.
But I feel a pair of hands grab me by the arm. I see Riley being grabbed, too.
I instinctively bash the evident runner in the face with my elbow, my left arm fumbling for the switchblade in my right back pocket.
I scream, feeling the runner's teeth sink into my right forearm.
Panic is all I'm feeling.
My heart is rapidly beating, warmth spreading through my chest.
The pain isn't as even half as bad as my panic.
I finally open the switchblade, puncturing it in the neck, watching it as it screeched, crumbling to the ground.
I run over to Riley, stabbing through it's neck as well, stomping on it's head for good measure.
I wipe off the blade, shakily returning it to my back pocket.
"Riley.." I quiver, walking over to her.
I watch her. She's just- staring at it. Staring at the bite. Her eyes are blank, her mouth trembling.
"Guess that's it, then.." She whispers after what feels like a lifetime.
"..What's it?" I ask, lifting up my sleeve to look at my own bite, already beginning to dampen my sleeve.
It looks like a smaller version of a shark bite, like a half-oval. It's dripping crimson, my stomach doing cartwheels at the sight.It's already starting to swell up, a small group of bumps formed on my skin.
"Our lives. We're done. That-" She points to the corpses on the ground. "Is what we'll become. And all we'll ever be."
"Riley-"
"Why don't we just wait it out? Ya know, we could just.. be all poetic and lose our minds together." She suggests, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Okay." I whisper. We walk fifteen, maybe twenty feet away from the corpses, then crossing our legs, sitting down.
I take out the switchblade and the note again, reading my mother's swoopy handwriting over and over and over again, flipping the knife from open to closed."Life is worth living! Find your purpose and fight for it."
I tried. And I'm sorry. I've already let you down.. But Mom, I know I'll be with you soon, and I can't wait to meet you.
"Do you think we'll see each other in heaven? Like, does the person's soul die? ..Or does the infection die with it?" Riley questions.
"I guess we'll find out soon, won't we?"
We just sit and make idle conversation, the both of us not wanting to be crybabies. Death happens to everyone at some point.
3 hours later
-past tense-
I ran away from Riley as soon as her shoulders started to twitch.
"Goodbye, Riley. I'll miss you." I whispered as I walked away, heading towards the Firefly base that we were in last night. I planned to find Marlene.
I never succumbed to the infection. Marlene decided she was to take me to Salt Lake City, in order to reverse-engineer a cure.
I miss you, Riley.