A/N: 'I carry two swords. One of silver for the creatures that roam the wild. One of steel for the humans in their cities of stone. Both are for monsters,' – Geralt of Rivia

They'd left Jackson, as promised, after Joel had gotten his stitches out, although Doc had been reluctant for them to leave. Joel and Ellie are adjusting, not just to life on the road, but also to having some semblance of their old relationship back. They've started a hunt, but there's only so far they'll get with a couple of names and photographs…

Rated T: For obvious reason - Ellie swears like a sailor

Disclaimer: I own nothing (except my muse - and technically Abe (for my sins) and Edith, I guess)

Warning: Vague spoilers for TLOU II (also sorry Abby fans, if you're out there? It was humane, I promise!)

Footnote: Not a TLOU quote like the others have been but I thought this one was apt for the chapter; so I made allowances and used one from The Witcher. It's…still gaming verse so…it still works just fine.

Additional Footnote: Again a huge thank you to all those who have reviewed, favoured and followed etc, it's been really lovely to hear all your thoughts and I'm having such a great fucking time trampling about the fandom again :)

A Wild Game Of Survival

Salmon-Challis was fucking beautiful. There was really no other way to describe it. The mountains ranges were similar to the wilderness that surrounded Jackson, but they seemed more expansive, more colourful and the woodlands that decorated the hillsides felt thicker.

It reminded Ellie of the first time she'd hit a wooded area on the way to Tommy's settlement with Joel, when things had still been tense between them but he'd still opted to camp out under the stars for the night and let her explore. Well…he'd ignored her exploring, only commenting when she'd repeated the same questions over and over to him…but back then that was pretty much as good as it got.

Joel had been right; it had taken just over a week for them to reach it on horseback, and that had been travelling at a leisurely pace without any overnight rides. Even though Joel had been keen to get there and start tracking down his ex-WLF buddy, he seemed to understand that he still needed to be mindful of his injuries and rest up whenever they had the opportunity.

Ellie hadn't even had to nag him...that much.

Maria had been willing to loan them Shimmer but after what happened to Callous all those years ago Ellie had been reluctant to take her up on the offer. Shimmer also didn't like Joel all that much, which Ellie still found hilarious, but it probably would've caused an issue somewhere along the line.

So, they'd ended up with Edith, a chestnut coloured mare with a white chest. She was one of the quieter, sturdier horses, who was used to travelling about outside the walls.

Fortunately, the road to Salmon-Challis had been uneventful. Jackson routinely cleared infected from the surrounding areas; so they'd actually managed to cover quite a bit of ground before they'd started to run into the strays, and even then there hadn't been many.

The horde Joel had spoken of thankfully seemed to have moved on…part of that migration Tommy always used to talk about.

…Tommy.

They'd hit the road the day after Joel had gotten his stitches out. With an emergency course of antibiotics, courtesy of Doc (but blatantly arranged by Maria) on the off-chance Joel happened to develop an infection.

So far, so good.

Joel had stopped by the cemetery before they'd set off and although she'd offered to go with him, he'd seemed to want the privacy. He hadn't spent long at Tommy's grave and when he'd come back grim faced and shaky, she hadn't said anything about it, just finished packing up the horse and tightening the saddle bags.

'Adios, little brother.'

He'd been quiet for a long time after that and even though she'd tried her best to fill the silence with a running commentary here and there, she wasn't the most talkative of people anymore and things between them still weren't like they had been…

...But she'd tried and that counted for something.

He'd warmed up after a few days on the road, when they'd made it far enough away from Jackson that he could no longer see it in the distance.

"So…what should we have tonight?" Ellie asks, rummaging through her pack with one hand, the other clasped firmly on the ridge of the saddle behind Joel. "Beans?...or beans? Fuck, I definitely didn't miss this."

It had been a long time since Ellie had spent more than a week away from Jackson and she's definitely starting to miss the creature comforts of the settlement. She'd gotten used to sleeping in a bed, being back on the road…back to a sleeping bag on the ground…it had taken a bit longer than she would have liked to get used to again.

And she wasn't even that old but fuck, her back hurt like hell those first few mornings…she cringes at what it must be like for Joel.

Still, both her and Joel were old hands at life on the road so whilst it's not ideal, they're used to it and can get by just fine. If she misses Maria's home-cooked stew on those nights where the beans boil dry and have no fucking flavour at all then she'll keep that thought to herself and choke them down alongside Joel while they take inventory and go over the game plan for the next day just fine too.

Admittedly, they were better stocked this time around than they had been when they'd first met and left Boston but supplies were still tight so meals, snacks and ammo allotments were rigid and although they'd managed to pick up a couple of rabbits on route, they needed to be careful what sort of goods they carried daily.

Meat, or at least the fresh kind, tended to attract infected.

Joel glances back at her over his shoulder briefly before tugging Edith gently off the track towards what Ellie figures used to be a footpath.

"Don't think I didn't see you line your pockets with all that beef jerky."

Fuck!

"Okay…one, I didn't know that you knew about that," Ellie snipes amiably, fastening the clip on her bag and swinging it back on her shoulder. "And two, it's for emergencies."

Joel chuckles.

"And what emergency did you have the night before last?"

Ellie's got no idea how he'd seen her when she'd deliberately waited until she'd been out of both sight and earshot whilst re-filling their canteens to break out the jerky stash.

"Your cooking," she tells him dryly, only half joking, jabbing a finger gently into his ribs.

"I don't remember you complain' about it when we left Boston."

"I came from the fucking military prep; anything was better than the shit they served up there."

It's not until they're a little further along the path that Ellie notices the blood dotted amongst the dirt and she nudges Joel with her elbow, motioning towards it. He doesn't say anything, she doesn't either but when he turns back and Edith continues her steady pace along the track, his shoulders are tense.

Ellie draws her hunting rifle.

There's a clearing at the end of the treeline and as they reach it, Ellie spots the hulking body in the corner, slumped against the rocks in a mass of blood and bone. She manages to swing herself from Edith before Joel and makes her way warily across the grass.

As she gets closer, she can make out the blood matted fur and antlers…it's a moose, or what's left of one, at least. She steps around the carcass, prodding at the exposed flesh with the barrel of her rifle, watching it snag listlessly against the metal.

Ellie's only ever seen one thing kill in this way.

"Infected?"

Joel gives a tight nod, stepping forward and inspecting the gaping wound stretching across the animal's stomach.

"Looks like it."

"How many do you think it'd take to bring down something that size?"

Joel looks grim when he answers.

"Hell of a lot more than one. Keep your eyes peeled, kiddo. Whatever did this ain't gone far."

Edith is wary, Ellie can feel her shifting restlessly underneath them as they settle back into the saddle and press forward, the mare's ears twitching rapidly and Ellie wonders if she can hear something in the distance that they can't.

She isn't sure exactly what it is that spooks Edith, a horse who Ellie knows at least several people in Jackson would swear blind was unshakable, but in the next second she's letting out an ear splitting whine and rearing up on her hind legs.

Ellie hits the ground, hard enough to leave her breathless but she somehow manages to keep hold of her rifle.

"ELLIE!"

She raises the rifle with both hands just in time to block the runner as it's body falls heavily on hers, jaws straining to reach over the gun above her face. It's a runner, male, but judging from the fungus steadily spreading across the right side of it's face, it's an old runner and well on it's way to becoming a stalker.

It's movements are sluggish but it's heavy and vicious in it's attack and Ellie's arms shake with the effort it takes to hold it back. She doesn't dare reach for her switchblade, not with the threat so close, and instead tries to wedge her boots into the ground underneath her in an attempt to buck it off.

A shot rings out and the runner pitches forward, collapsing against her braced rifle, crushing her legs from where she's angled them awkwardly in the dirt. Her ears are ringing but she manages to roll the body over and lurch to her feet regardless because Joel had always hammered home that a prone target was an easy target.

Her vision blurs but she's able to blink it back into focus by the time the next shot fires.

Joel's suddenly next to her, pistol raised and pointed into the shadows. Ellie can hear them now, infected, mumbling and chittering in the trees…and fuck, that sounds like a shitload more than one.

"You're gonna wanna get that gun up real quick."

'You're gonna wanna lean right into that stock, 'cause that is gonna kick a hell of a lot more than any BB rifle.'

She clocks her rifle and falls in shoulder to shoulder with Joel, leaning hard into the stock and pointing the barrel into the woodland. She can just about make out the shadows moving in between the trunks, several darting quickly through the undergrowth and a few, larger, more distorted shadows staggering more unsurely through the trees.

It's another runner that breaches the treeline next, almost tripping over the body of another as it rushes towards them. Ellie lines up the shot and fires, taking it down and jamming another round into the gun with quick fingers. She can barely keep track of the number of infected that emerge from the shadows, focused on the immediate danger of whichever infected runs the risk of coming closest. She's vaguely aware of Joel beside her, firing rounds into the bodies almost as quickly as they come but for every runner they drop there seems to be another ready and willing to take it's place.

The clickers are still clicking ominously in the dark, but they sound much closer than they had before, and Ellie knows the gunfire will only draw them nearer. There are several runners gathering around Edith, and although it's a fucking long way to Seattle on foot, Ellie reaches out and smacks the horse hard across the thigh, sending the mare cantering off down the path.

The runners try to overwhelm them, moving in a pack-like formation but despite their numbers they don't coordinate and, in their haste to get to them, leave themselves vulnerable. Both Ellie and Joel are able to get several shots in and the ones who manage to slip through the fire are easily taken care of, Joel's hands cracking the creature's bones beneath his fingers and Ellie's switchblade tearing wildly at their skin.

Two clickers stumble onto the path, clicking insistently into the air, frenzied and agitated by the noise. Ellie crouches down, fingers wrapping quietly around the nearest rock she can reach, and she risks a quick glance at Joel to see him hastily reloading his clip before launching it as far as she can down the path. It connects nosily with a tree and the clickers let out a screech, multiple rows of teeth peeling open as they move to investigate.

Joel fires at one and hits it squarely in the chest as Ellie grabs for her switchblade and strikes the thigh of the other as it passes her, cutting a clear path to Joel as he lines up his pistol. The shot she's expecting doesn't happen, Joel's fingers are hovering over the trigger, but his hands are shaking, and he makes no move to pull it.

She drops her switchblade in her desperation to get her rifle, jamming a shell hurriedly into the clip and firing sloppily into the clicker's back. She's careful not to hit Joel but other than that she's shooting anywhere she can target on the infected and she empties another two rounds into it's bleeding body. It's goes down, but it isn't dead, still attempting to crawl it's way to Joel, deformed fingers pulling up clumps of dirt as it drags itself along.

Joel seems to have come back to his senses and wastes no time capitalising on the opportunity, pushing his boot hard into the base of the clicker's spine and pressing his pistol against the back of it's skull. He fires a round into it and then another until it eventually remains silent and unmoving, it's head resembling the apples Ellie's often seen smashed under the trees back at Jackson's orchard.

It's quiet, other than their ragged breathing and Ellie's pretty sure that clicker was the last of them, even the trees which were rustling with movement only minutes earlier are still. She swings her rifle over her shoulder, pulling at the strap and retrieves her switchblade from where it had slipped from her fingers when she'd made a mad grab for her gun.

She's about to ask Joel what the fuck he'd been doing, when she notices a dark-skinned man at the far end of the path, with long greying hair draped messily over his shoulders. He's dressed in an olive drab army jacket and matching patterned trousers from what Ellie can make out through the dirt and…he's holding a shotgun, clocked and trained towards them.

She isn't any good at gauging age, people didn't really make old bones these days, they were lucky if they made it to sixty, between the infected and all the other assholes out there trying to kill them. Eugene had surpassed most; he'd probably been one of the oldest people Ellie had known.

This man…he doesn't look much younger than Eugene had, the wrinkles in his face heavily rooted.

"Ah…Joel?," Ellie raises her hands, switchblade clutched tightly in her left as she tries to shimmy it down into her jacket sleeve, and motions for Joel to turn around, which he does, raising his arms in a similar fashion, keeping a firm grip on his pistol.

"I could've died happy having never seen you or that brother of yours again, Miller," despite his sharp words, the man's voice has a pleasant quality about it, which reminds Ellie uncomfortably of David. "You clean?"

"I'll be honest, I was expectin' a warmer welcome than this, Abe," Joel replies carefully, and although he drops his arms, his eyes remain firmly on the shotgun. "I'm clean."

Abe nods tightly and sways his shotgun briefly towards Ellie.

"And your girl?"

"She's good."

Abe lowers his gun but doesn't holster it, holding it loosely in his grip.

"You better come this way then."

'You won't survive long out there. I can protect you.'

Ellie catches Joel's eye as they both make to follow Abe, and the hard look he gives her is enough for her to keep her switchblade tucked away up her sleeve. Joel keeps his pistol out under the pretence of scanning for more infected.

Abe visibly favours his right leg when he walks, which slows him down considerably, but he takes them to an old ranger's post, a dilapidated lodge cabin nestled in the hillside amongst the trees. There's a stream cutting through the grass nearby, which trickles off into the thick woodland to the left of the cabin.

Ellie spots several traps nestled amongst the grass that look similar to the ones Bill had lined his town with, along with a sound trap (a net full of glass bottles and tin cans) above the door.

Abe nudges the door open slightly, careful not to trigger the trap above, squeezing through the small gap between the wood as he disappears inside. Ellie stops short of following; something seems a little off about Abe and although he's an old buddy of Joel's, she can't shake the queasy feeling that's settled low in her stomach.

She jumps when Joel's hand comes to rest on her shoulder, squeezing gently and when she looks up at him, he's peering into the gap Abe's left behind for them. Joel might've known Abe before, but Ellie's got no idea how long it's been since he last saw him, and a lot could happen to a person in a world like this this in not much time at all.

"You good, kiddo?"

She's tempted to tell him, but she's knows as soon as she voices it, she'll be left outside, and Joel will go in alone and there's no damn way she's letting that happen.

"Yeah," she mutters cagily. "I'm good."

Joel doesn't look convinced, but he nods, albeit a little stiffly, before his hand drops from her shoulder and he moves past her, disappearing between the wood and into the cabin. She fingers the outline of her switchblade through her jacket sleeve before quickly following him.

The cabin reminds her a little of Bill's place. It's cluttered and overstocked, most available countertops and shelves littered with various shit…Abe had obviously been hauled up in Salmon-Challis for some time. She spots a couple of ammo boxes stacked neatly on a bookcase by the door and after all those fucking infected, she knows Joel wouldn't say no to a few extra rounds.

She figures she'll wait to see if Abe offers…but if he doesn't, she's got a couple of empty pockets on her jacket.

Abe's stretched out in a tattered armchair in the centre of the room, surrounded by empty crates and bottles, but he's finally relinquished his shotgun which is resting against the side of the chair. He gestures to the other chairs with a flick of his hand, all angled towards a low wooden table.

Joel slips his pistol into the waistband of his jeans, taking the leathery armchair opposite Abe. Ellie doesn't join them, hovering around in the open kitchenette by the door. The cabin is essentially one room so if she stays near the doorway; she can pretty much see the entire room without having to move about too much.

She can keep an eye on Joel...and she's got a clear shot on Abe, if she needs it.

"What made you trade Seattle for Idaho?"

"I got old," Abe tells Joel sullenly, propping his left leg up against an upturned crate. "Realised people were killing each other faster than the infected. Thought I'd take my chances out here. Not many people visit the forests these days," he levels a calculated look at Joel, peering at him through dark eyes. "What about you, Miller? You're a long way from Boston."

It's a deliberate question, asked in such a way that makes Ellie think that Abe somehow knew Joel hadn't been in Boston for years. She does her best to shake it away because it's clear it's been a while (although she doesn't know how long exactly) since the two have seen each other, but even as she tries to shut the thought down, she can't silence the little voice in the back of her head which urges her to be careful.

Perhaps it's the similarity his voice has to David's that has her on edge? Or perhaps it's got nothing to do with that at all? Either way, she's suddenly relieved she didn't join them at the table. Creepy fucker!

Joel remains tight lipped about Boston, he doesn't comment at all about the insinuation, and Ellie's thankful that he's such a hard ass. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the bundle of photographs, placing them on the small table.

"We're looking for a group. Some of your WLF guys-"

"They're not my guys," Abe interrupts bluntly, reaching for the photographs. "Not anymore. I've been out of that circle for years."

"What about Isaac? He still run with that crew?"

"Isaac runs that crew now. Things went to shit when the Pattersons died. Isaac got voted in."

Abe looks wary but he takes the photos, shuffling them through his fingers and mumbling the names. He stops at Abby and Owen's picture, plucking it from the pile and placing it face up on the table between them.

"Now I don't know much about the girl," Abe warns tightly, mouth drawn into a thin line. "But that fella that she brought with her, he used to sing after a few whiskeys," he taps a finger against Abby's face. "Anderson's old man was a firefly, a surgeon, stationed someplace out west. I'm not sure what happened but he died and these two, along with a few other kids, found their way to Isaac."

Abe keeps talking but Ellie's doesn't hear the rest of what's being said…Abby's father had been a surgeon, stationed someplace out west. She supposes there's a chance that he'd been at the university, before it had been overrun by infected, but a lot of the fireflies had moved out to St Mary's Hospital before things had become unsalvageable there…not many of them had died in Eastern Colorado…

…There's every chance Abby's father had been stationed in Salt Lake City when Joel had shot his way out of the hospital.

It…would make sense. It would explain why Abby's group had made the lengthy trip from Seattle to Jackson when journeys like that were fucking dangerous. It would explain how they'd known Joel…she supposes if Abby's father had been a firefly too, it might also explain how they'd known Tommy.

She tries to catch Joel's gaze but he's pointedly avoiding her, head down and focusing intently on the photographs as Abe reels off more information about the group. She knows he's thinking the same about Abby's father…it was too much of a coincidence to be anything else.

"Any idea where we might find 'em?"

"Isaac used to run from an old football stadium, CenturyLink Field. I don't know for sure; but I'd assume they're still there…had a nice little homestead going," Abe gets up with some difficulty and shuffles over to one of the countertops, littered with books and newspaper clippings. Rooting through the papers, he plucks a neatly folded paper from the stack, before falling back into his armchair, unfolding it on the table. It's a map of Seattle, a little faded in places but still legible, various blue marker lines dividing the city into zones and Abe points stiffly to the stadium. "If they're still there…it'll be armed to the teeth. You won't be coming out of there alive."

"How many are we talking?"

"The way Isaac was racking them up? It'll likely be thousands by now."

Ellie isn't sure what she'd been expecting but she hadn't even entertained the possibility the group would have numbers that fucking big. It was rare to find anything over a few hundred people now, the only exception possibility being the few quarantine zones that were able to keep going, despite facing the same shit as all the fallen ones.

Jackson on a good day was only a few hundred strong, and that was counting the entire settlement…the number of people able to fight, to defend…that would be a lot less. If they struck out against Tommy's killers and the WLF decided to retaliate, Jackson wouldn't have a hope in hell of taking on a force like that.

She chances a glance at Joel but the look on his face does little to ease her worries.

What the fuck were they doing here?

"There's another group in Seattle…the Seraphites. You'll hear Isaac's people call them scars. They're smaller, couple of hundred people, fanatics…the religious type. You get them even now," Isaac taps several spots on the maps where 'Scars' has been scrawled messily in smudged ink. "When their leading lady was alive, they had a treaty. Things were peaceful for a while, but Isaac was always waiting for them to slip up. When she died…," Abe trails off, something dark crossing his features. "Well, there ain't no saving a world that wants to go to war."

'Still trying to save the world, ha. Good luck with that."

Ellie knows he's got a point, but the words have slipped out almost instinctively before she's able to stop them.

"People tried."

Abe glances at her from the corner of his eye before going back to the map.

"And they failed."

Joel clears his throat roughly, stacking up the photographs and returning them to his pocket before tapping at one of the zones on the map surrounding the stadium.

"Anythin' else we need to know?"

Ellie can't see the map well enough to make out any of the details from her vantage point in the kitchenette so she leaves Joel and Abe to hash out the details and instead waits until they're both engrossed with the map, hunched over the table and muttering to each other to swipe the ammo boxes from the bookcase, stowing them in her jacket in one of the deeper pockets so the indentation won't show.

She settles back against the kitchen worksurface, nudging several things out of the way so she can lean against it as she waits for Joel, but she's surprised to find Abe making his way towards her with his uneven gait. For a second, she's concerned he'd spotted her packing up his shit but when he reaches the kitchenette he doesn't say anything about it, just snags a tin mug from the countertop and retrieves a bottle from one of the cabinets.

He pours out a generous shot of whatever he's got brewing in the bottle and Ellie wrinkles her nose at the smell. Shit's stronger than Winston's old stash. Abe downs it in one go, pouring himself another before capping the bottle and setting it down on the counter. She expects him to take the drink and go but when he makes no move to collect mug, Ellie straightens up, casting a look over at Joel to find him studying the map, fingers tracing lines through the streets.

"Anderson and her friends weren't the only fireflies to make it to Seattle," Abe tells her, something odd in his voice that she can't place. "There were others. They came with interesting stories. Isaac always used to find them out."

Alarms are ringing loudly in Ellie's head, prickling the hairs at the base of her neck but she stands firm, refusing to be intimidated. She had faced down worse than the likes of Abe before she was fifteen.

"Now the fireflies...they found a girl, hired a smuggler to get her out of the Boston QZ," he continues quietly, eyes falling to Ellie's forearm, which is covered by her jacket sleeve. "Supposedly that little girl was immune. Crazy, right?" Abe's mouth upturns into a smile that looks out of place on his face, all teeth and hard edges. "Except what if it's not? That little girl...she'd be all grown up by now."

He makes a grab for her arm but Ellie's faster, back stepping and slipping her switchblade from her sleeve, holding the blade out in front of her, angled towards his chest in case he tries to approach her again.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

She can see Joel moving over Abe's shoulder and in the next breath his revolver is drawn and pointed at the back of Abe's head. Abe must hear the click as Joel removes the safety because he raises his hands, palm up and takes several slow steps away from Ellie.

"Now I didn't mean anything by it," he says, and Ellie isn't sure whether he's talking to her or Joel, but his voice has settled back into the smooth, pleasant tone he'd used before. "There just crazy stories. You hear all sorts these days."

"That you do," Joel agrees in a hard voice, revolver trained steadily on Abe as the man turns to face him.

Ellie doesn't hear what Abe says to Joel, she tunes him out as she shifts further away from him, conscious that Abe's standing in doorway. She moves towards Joel, quick but careful because although Abe's shotgun is still propped up against the armchair, she doesn't know what else the man might have on him and she isn't particularly keen to find out.

She grabs Joel's pack from the floor, slinging it onto her shoulder and crossing the strap over her own, before snatching the map off the table and stuffing it roughly into her back pocket, drawing her pistol from the holster.

"Move," she tells Abe, in a harsh, clipped voice, using her pistol to make a vague gesture of direction.

Joel moves first, his footsteps deliberate as he edges his way slowly towards the door, watching Abe shuffle away. Ellie follows him, literally a step behind, and she almost bumps into him when he stops short by the doorway. He motions for her to go through with one hand, the other still clutching tightly at his gun, wary eyes never leaning Abe, who's now pressed into a corner, hands hovering passively in front of his chest.

She wedges her shoulder into the opening, one of them has to go first and realistically she knows that she's not got a hope in hell of convincing Joel so, despite the fact that she hates the idea of leaving him alone with Abe, there's nothing she can do about it and given they've both pulled guns on the guy, they don't really have the luxury of burning time.

She slips through the door and stumbles onto the porch, waiting with bated breath until Joel slides out after her.

"Isaac runs that city, Miller," Abe's voice echoes from inside and Ellie's relieved to hear that he doesn't sound any closer to the door. "If you run into trouble out there, you didn't hear any of this from me."

They leave quickly, following the stream into the woodland, and they walk until the early evening draws in and the light starts to fade before Joel finds them somewhere to set up camp for the night. They're far enough away from Abe's cabin that there's no way he's catching up to them with his dodgy leg and after a swoop of the area for infected, they both decide this is as good as things are going to get and hunker down.

Joel doesn't light a fire, conscious of their open position and worried about the smoke giving them away and when he pulls out two cans from his pack, shiv in hand ready to peel them open, all Ellie can think about is how little she wants cold beans after the shit show the day had shaped up to be.

Edith was gone, presumably for good unless they somehow managed to find her before they left the park which, given the acres of land the forest covered, seemed unlikely. Joel had probably murdered Abby's Dad, who, to top it all off, had also been a firefly and Abe had turned out to be a creepy fucker who'd probably driven himself crazy after so long spent hauled up alone in that cabin.

"Today has been shit. It's definitely time for emergency jerky," Ellie pulls out the bag from her jacket pocket, plucking out the ammo boxes she'd pocketed from Abe's cabin as well. "Your buddy was an asshole," she defends quickly at Joel's raised brow, snatching a jerky strip before tossing the bag to Joel and popping open the first box, fingers scanning over the rounds as she took stock.

"You won't hear any different from me."

It's not a bad haul and by the time she gets to the third box she's scraped together enough rounds to fill their pistol clips twice over, several shotgun shells which she hands off to Joel and a couple of spent bullets which she tosses. The third box is light compared to the others and if it wasn't for the rattle it had made when she'd picked it up, she would've sworn it was empty.

She opens it and peers inside before turning it out into her palm, the metal pendant clattering loudly against the chain as it topples out. She can see Joel watching her and from his expression she can tell he's thinking the same thing she is…that no matter how far they come they'll always be haunted by the fireflies.

Ellie picks up the pendant and turns it over to read the inscription before holding it out to Joel.

Abraham Dixon

000218

"So…how fucking well did you know this guy, Joel?"

Who's in the shadows?
Who's ready to play?
Are we the hunters?
Or are we the pray?

This is a wild game of survival

There's no surrender
And there's no escape
Are we the hunters?
Or are we the pray?

Lyrics courtesy of Ruelle

A/N: Review? If you feel like it? x