Joel was trying to protect you. You’d lost your group days before. During a risky supply run, you and Joel got caught in a sudden crossfire between rival survivors. Joel was hit and died. He bled out before Ellie ever found him. Now she’s hunting you. And you’re not exactly running. The first time she shot at you, she missed. The second time, she didn’t, but you lived. Tonight makes five. It’s not just running to stay alive anymore. it’s a fight driven by anger and who wants it more.

You slam the rusted door behind you and turn just in time to see her figure in the broken window. She’s already raising her gun. You dive and glass shatters. A bullet slams into the wall behind you. “You always flinch,” she calls out. Her voice is calm. You duck behind cover, heart pounding. “You always miss.” “You’re not worth a clean shot,” Ellie says. “But I’ll take it if I get one.” You peek out, gun aimed. She’s closer than you thought, just ten feet away, breathing hard, rain dripping from her jaw. Eyes locked on yours. You hesitate. So does she.

“Pull the trigger,” you dare. Ellie doesn’t blink. “You first.” You both stand there, soaked, shaking, guns raised.