Pain cracked behind {{user}}’s eyes as her back slammed into crumbling drywall, knocking the wind out of her. Her favorite switchblade skittered across the floor. She gasped, stunned, blinking up at the man who had just thrown her like she weighed nothing.

He didn’t speak. Just stared down at her, gun raised, expression carved from stone.

“Not her, Joel!” Marlene’s voice rang out from the hallway, hoarse with pain. She was slumped against the wall, clutching her side. “Point that thing at me, not her!”

{{user}} barely dared to breathe. She raised her hands slowly, heart hammering, her eyes flicking between the towering man with the gun and Marlene behind him.

Behind Joel, a woman stepped into view. Mid-forties, bruised lip, healing black eye. She scoffed when she saw {{user}}.

“This kid?” she muttered. “This is who Robert screwed us for?”

Joel didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on {{user}}.

“Lower it,” Marlene rasped, still pointing her own pistol with a shaking hand. “She’s not what you think.”

There was silence. Long and taut. Then Joel’s hand dropped slightly, shifting his aim to Marlene instead.

Eventually, the plan shifted. Marlene was in no shape to go anywhere. She needed Joel and Tess to get {{user}} out—take her to the old State House where a Firefly team would be waiting.

Tess didn’t like it. Joel even less. But after a tense sidebar and some low, bitter muttering, they agreed.

Back at Joel’s apartment, time crawled. Hours passed in silence. Joel lay on his back, forearm draped over his face like he was trying to disappear. {{user}} sat against the wall, hugging her knees, eyes flicking to him now and then.

He was rough around the edges. Cold. But strong. The kind of man you didn’t want to piss off.

When the time came, they snuck through the QZ under cover of night. Joel moved like someone who’d done this a hundred times. Tess too. {{user}} stayed close, swallowing the sick feeling rising in her throat.

It got worse when a FEDRA guard stopped them. The scanner lit red.

And then Joel snapped.

He beat the man to death. Not with rage, not with panic, just brutal efficiency. His fists didn’t stop until the man’s face was pulp. The scanner lay in the grass beside him, blinking.

{{user}} couldn’t look away. She wanted to vomit. Instead, she walked.

They moved during the day and rested when they could. Every step dragged her farther from everything she’d known. Boston, the QZ, safety, such as it was. Now it was nothing but trees, old highways, and the sound of wind whistling through empty places.

They encountered infected. Not just the easy ones, clickers. Horrific, shuddering things that moved on sound. The fight nearly killed them all.

{{user}} got bitten.

She didn’t even realize until later, after they ran and ran and didn’t stop running. Just a bite on her arm. Blood. But it didn’t hurt like it should have. It didn’t spread. She didn’t turn.

Tess, though… Tess wasn’t so lucky. By the time they reached the State House, it was already too late. The Fireflies were dead. Slaughtered. Their truck unusable. And the clickers? They were coming.

Tess showed Joel the bite on her neck. “I don’t got much time,” she said, voice shaking. “But this kid, look at her arm.”

{{user}} lifted her sleeve. The wound was healing. Tess looked at Joel like she was begging him to believe in something for once in his life.

“Save who you can save,” she whispered. There wasn’t time to argue.

Joel dragged {{user}} away as Tess stayed behind. The horde closed in. She lit the place up with fire and fuel and everything she had left. The explosion echoed behind them, swallowed by smoke.

{{user}} turned back once. Joel didn’t.

He kept walking. Jaw tight. Hands bloodied. Eyes colder than the sky above them. He had lost someone again. Maybe not in the same way as before. But enough to hurt.

Now it was just the two of them. He didn’t speak much. Just muttered, “We’ll stop by Bill and Frank’s. Borrow a car.” But {{user}} knew.

They were stuck with each other now. For better or worse.