#ain’t no way Joel was like ‘yeah let’s find him some seeds let’s go’

[messrmoonyy]

A lot of people are guessing that the gun that Frank traded for the strawberry seeds is the one Joel has now. But I take that and I raise you, it’s actually the little gun Tess uses. Who’s more likely to go to the lengths to find those seeds and actually trade with them for her lil bestie? Tess.

[galadrieljones]

As You Were (Chapter 4)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in, what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret. While there, they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, and who have recently endured a terrible tragedy on their family farm. Amidst their joint desire to find hope for the future, the two groups decide set out west together, changing the course of the story (as we know it), and the very course of their lives.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second game. Joel lives.

Chapter 4: The Trench (Pt. 1 and 2)

“I’m scared of ending up alone.”

1.

She walked along the river, and she found him sitting on the grassy bank, with his feet in. He still had his boots on. “Don’t,” she said, crouching beside him. “You need to take off your boots first.”

“No you don’t,” he said. He smiled. “Come try it out.”

She sat down, but she didn’t put her feet in the water. The river bank was wet anyway. It was getting her jeans damp. She didn’t feel like taking off her boots. “I thought the whole point was to be free,” she said.

“You can be free any way you like,” he said. “That’s the definition of freedom.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said.

The big blue sky cast out above them as opals. There were no clouds. No anxious metal sounds. There were no fears.

“I know you’re pregnant,” he said. He was staring at his boots in the water. “I saw the test.”

She looked down at her hands. Everybody was always doing that. “You saw it?”

“I didn’t mean to. You left it in the trash. Where did you even find one?”

“Amy,” she said. “She had some, from the Wal-mart. I had to pay her with two chickens.”

“Pretty good deal, considering.”

“Are you mad?” she said.

He looked at her with his brown eyes. Sometimes they could be hard as bolts. Today, they were soft. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because we didn’t mean it,” she said. “My dad is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t,” said Will. He took her hand and pressed his thumb against her knuckles. “Nobody is gonna die.”

Mom. Don’t go back.

“Cici?”

She opened her eyes. When she looked around, she realized it was morning, well past the break of dawn. She had fallen asleep on the couch. She was looking at Joel now. He was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a new tee-shirt but the same jeans. He had a rifle on his back, and a shotgun. He was looking confused. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. Hi.”

“You sleep down here last night?”

“Yeah,” she said. She put her feet on the ground, her face in her palms. “I was just reading, pretty late. I guess I must have been so tired. I slept through the night.”

“Well that ain’t so bad,” said Joel. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I was just, uh. I was gonna head out, with Noah. He’s gonna show me the work that needs doing on the perimeter. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You said you’re going with Noah now?”

“Yes, ma’am. He says it shouldn’t take past lunch.”

“I’ll have something ready,” she said. Then, she looked around. “Is Ellie still asleep?”

“No,” said Joel. “She’s out, feeding the chickens and gathering eggs.”

“Oh. Okay, well, good.”

“I think she likes it here,” said Joel, glancing out the window. “She ain’t never spent time outdoors like this before. It’s good for her.”

“I’m glad,” said Cici. She was still sort of out of it. She got up and started walking to the kitchen. “Did Noah make any coffee this morning?”

Joel kind of paused. He seemed taken off-guard but he hid it well. “Noah didn’t mention any coffee,” he said.

“He probably just forgot,” she said, putting a kettle on the stove. “We scavenged a couple big bags from the roastery in town, a couple months ago. I mean, it ain’t fresh, but it does the trick. I can make you some, if you like. It’ll just be a minute.”

Joel walked over to the table. He leaned against one of the chairs. “Uh, sure,” he said. “Sure, that’d be fine.”

“You look dumbfounded,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said Joel. “Everything’s, uh, just fine. I just—I ain’t had coffee in a while.”

“How long?”

He glanced down at his watch, which she had noticed early on. It was broken, but she figured there was a good reason he must have kept wearing it, or else it could have just been habit. Grown men were like that, she knew. They just got to doing things for so long sometimes, they forgot why or how. They just kept doing it till they died. “Years,” he said.

“Well, you’re in luck then,” she said. “Would Ellie want some, or is she too young?”

“I don’t think she’d like the stuff,” said Joel.

“Noah doesn’t either,” she said.

Ellie came inside a moment later then, as Cici was boiling the water. She was holding a whole basket full of eggs and looking very pleased with herself. Noah followed behind her with his familiar shotgun set on his shoulder.

“Look at all these eggs,” said Ellie, holding up the basket. “Joel, do you see this?”

"I do.”

“Very good haul,” said Cici. The kettle was whistling. She started pouring the water over the grounds, through a cone, into a mug for Joel. “I’m just making Joel a quick cup of coffee, before you boys head down to the perimeter.”

“You guys got coffee?” said Ellie, sitting down at the table. “Holy shit, Joel. You must be freaking out.”

Joel then gave her a little bit of a side-eye. “I am not freaking out. Though I will admit, it’s a treat.”

Ellie started counting the eggs, one by one. "Anyway," she said. "What do you guys think you’ll see when you go down there? Is it pretty gnarly?"

“Hopefully we'll see nothing,” said Noah. He picked up an apple, from a blue porcelain bowl on the counter. “Hopefully we’ll just finish the trench, reset the mines, and be done.” He took a bite.

"Good," said Ellie.

“I’m just happy to see the two of you out of danger,” said Joel, sitting back in his chair. “Whatever I can do. This place deserves a second chance.”

Cici just focused on the coffee. She wanted it to be good.

When they got outside, Noah took Joel out to the crow’s nest where he wanted to pick up a small canister of gasoline and a lighter and some other stuff, including the replacement mines, and a true blue improved explosive. That one, said Noah, was more or less just some parts his mom had made for a fancy pipe bomb, plus a proximity sensor. He had them up there stored in a backpack. When they got up to the top of the ladder, Joel notice the Pearl Jam poster and did a double-take. In some ways, being on that farm in the middle of nowhere, it felt like he had stepped through some sort of time warp.

“My dad liked them,” said Noah, reading his mind, pocketing a book of matches and loading his 9mm, which he then holstered in the waist of his jeans. “That was his.”

“That’s a blast from the past,” said Joel.

“What year were you born?” said Noah.

The question was surprising, and direct. Both Noah and Cici had these unfiltered ways about them in which they could sit in complete silence for multiple moments at a time, but then, out of nowhere, abruptly come to the truth, simply asking and saying the things they meant with very little pretense or warning. “Uh, 1984,” said Joel.

“Dang,” said Noah. “You’re as old as my Uncle Nick.”

“Who's Uncle Nick."

“My mom’s step-brother," said Noah. "He was old enough that he was in Iraq.”

“What year?”

“2004, I think, was the start of his first tour."

Joel took a deep breath. He had his hands on his hips as he was nodding his head to the memory. “Yeah, I knew a lot of guys that enlisted,” he said, “after 9/11, in 2003. At the time, it seemed like there was something to fight for. It wasn’t that uncommon where I grew up.”

“Did you enlist?” said Noah.

“No,” said Joel, glancing back to the poster. It was a silkscreen, from a concert in Madison, probably back in like 1996.

“Why not?”

“I thought about it, but I had—well, I had other responsibilities at the time.”

Noah just stared at him, unclear.

“Let’s get a move on,” said Joel.

It took them about twenty minutes to get all the way to the section of the perimeter that needed maintenance. Noah said this was an especially vulnerable spot, as it pushed right up against the woods, with a wide frontage to the Kickapoo River just a few miles away on the other side. To get there, they had to follow the creek, which was overgrown in some parts with a great deal of bramble. At some point, they emerged and then had to walk through about five acres of arable land that had gone to seed. There was also a fairly overgrown apple orchard, and a field of actual, farmed corn, plus a stable, in the distance. Most of the trek was downhill, but the sun was hot that day. They were cooking.

Noah didn’t talk much. Joel was getting a little apprehensive about what, exactly, it was they were going to run into out there. He knew they were going to finish digging a trench, and he knew they would have to navigate their way through a live minefield, using the map that Noah had stuffed in his back pocket. He trusted the kid, and he trusted Cici, but he still had no idea what the hell he was doing. Part of him was worried about getting a leg blown off. The other part was amped up, just in case they were set to run into a horde. There were a lot of trees out there, and he didn’t really understand how it was they had kept this place fully booby-trapped in such an organized fashion for so long all by themselves. But then he thought about Bill, back in Massachusetts and suddenly, based on his most recent memories of a life lived with Tess, in which the two of them survived mainly by navigating the loopholes of a fully-fledged but decaying QZ, he began to realize that perhaps the kind of hard work he was used to, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that difficult at all.

“You know, I asked your mom yesterday,” said Joel as they scaled down a shallow ridge overgrown with prickly shrubs, “about whether y’all had some idea of what’s been causing the increase in activity out here, with Infected.”

“What did she tell you?” said Noah.

“She told me to talk to you.”

When they got to the bottom of the ridge, they walked a little further out, through a meadow with a dry well. Up ahead, finally, they saw it—the minefield. It was on the other side of an electric fence, about ten feel high. The fence had barbed wire spooled along the top, but it didn’t seem to be properly electric anymore, as there was a huge hole cut in the links, which they took turns squeezing through.

“You know how I told you, the water, coming in from the Kickapoo, the Bad Axe, some other major tributaries off the Mississippi, it’s ain’t safe?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” said Joel.

“Well, one day,” said Noah—he had a machete, which he was now using to hack through some of bramble on the other side of the fence, “about a year and a half ago, we heard a distress call from the Amish. There used to be a whole huge family of them on the other side of them woods, over north. They didn’t use the radio, but they had a hand-powered siren, which they would use to signal any threats in the area.”

“These the Amish that got the scrapyard?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “They were called the Lapps, before. Anyway, when the siren went off, my dad and my uncle went over there, and some of the other guys in the area that we knew. They thought they were gonna find maybe some reavers, or a small horde, wandering in from the town. But when they got there, it was like, the whole entire family was turning. Every single one of them, like dozens of people, infected, at the same time. It was insane, my dad said. It was starting to rain, so my dad and my uncle, they just herded them all into the barn and locked them in, and then they came home. They said it was bizarre. If one person gets infected and starts turning other people, why did the distress call come in so late? Why weren’t there more dead? Everybody was just sick, they said. All at once, as if they'd all been infected at the same time.”

Joel was focused on his footing, stepping through the tall grasses. There were so many grasshoppers, you couldn’t count. “Did you figure out what caused it?"

“Eventually,” said Noah. “We were used to using a well, which draws on a aquifer, under the ground, for our water. But the Amish, after the Outbreak in 2013, they apparently started hauling their water in straight from the river, fished it all the time.”

“Spores in the river?”

“In all the rivers,” said Noah.

“How?”

“All the tributaries coming into the floodplain, they’re all contaminated. A couple of travelers came through not long after the outbreak at the Lapp farm. They said that every city up and down the Mississippi, and on a major tributary, everywhere is going nuts with Infected. They said that, in LaCrosse, you could see the Cordyceps, growing right off the banks. There was something going on.”

“Jesus.”

“So like a year ago,” Noah continued, “all of us—me, my mom, my dad, and my uncle, we went up to LaCrosse.” He stopped in his tracks then, took a long drink of water from a canteen in his backpack.

“What happened?” said Joel.

“We got cornered by a horde before we could make it into the city,” he said, “in a church just south of Shelby. There was a fire. My mom and me got out, barely. My dad and my uncle didn’t. By the time the two of us got back to Viroqua, the rest of the Amish in the area had either abandoned their farms, or turned. The whole town, anybody left in this part of the Driftless, they were almost all of them gone. Dead, turned, or gone.”

Joel felt heavy, blindsided. He looked at his boots in the tall grass, getting wet from the river marsh. When he looked up now, he could see it there, in its glory: the minefield. Just like a long, flat expanse of grass that spread out, stretching around the property, maybe about twenty yards deep. On the other side of the minefield was the trench, and then a whole lot of trees, growing up the side of a wooded ridge. “Everything you just told me, that’s all true?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, kid.”

“I know.”

“You said there are others in the area. The Amish who got the scrapyard. Some of them survived?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “One of the families had been on a supply run, eastward, during the outbreak. They came back, and they stayed. They still live over the hill. There are a few others, a couple families here and there. My Aunt Amy, she was married to my Uncle Nick, she left a little bit after we got back from LaCrosse, went down to the Quad Cities with her daughter. They had family down there, on Amy’s side, in Moline. We’ve tried to keep tabs on what’s going on down there, but it all went dark a while ago. I have no idea if they made it.”

“So you think the Infected, they’re coming down the river, with the spores.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know why, or how, the water became like it is? Because it ain’t like that in the northeast. Spores infecting people through the water supply is news to me.”

“We don’t know what’s causing it,” said Noah. “We know there’s something going on in LaCrosse, but we’ve never gone back.”

Joel took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, son,” he said. “I am. That’s a tough hand.”

“Thanks,” said Noah, shaking his head. “But I doubt it’s any worse than your sob story, or Ellie’s, or any of the other sob stories you must hear traveling around these days.”

“That don’t matter,” said Joel. He regarded Noah, whose cynicism was familiar to his own. “In the grand scheme of things, one loss might seem meaningless, but just because a lot of people are dying that don’t mean the people that you lose, that their lives held any less significance to you when they were still alive. You get that?”

Noah was just staring at him, as if the words he was hearing were foreign, or new. He did, however, nod stiffly, and then he looked away. Joel didn’t know if it had gotten through. He just felt for the boy.

“All the shit we need to do, it’s up there,” said Noah.

Joel squinted past the minefield toward the trench. “It looks like it’s nearly finished.”

“It is,” he said. “The Infected tripped two mines and one bomb yesterday. We’ll clean up the trench, and then we'll replace the explosives. With you here, it’ll be fast.”

“What are the odds we’re gonna run into Infected out there at that trench?” said Joel. “There’s a lot of trees.”

“I don’t know,” said Noah. He took the map out of his back pocket, unfolded it. It was hand-drawn in blue pen. “They hang out in there sometimes, because it’s cool. They get lost, and then they freak out if they hear you. Just like, stay alert. And while we’re in the minefield, follow in my footsteps exactly so that you don’t blow up. We’ll go slow.”

Joel sighed profoundly. He closed his eyes, gathered his courage, prayed to the good lord nothing would happen, knowing it was fruitless, but doing it anyway. “Alright then," he said.

2.

By noon, they had finished the trench. The sun was high, and they were both sweating and starving, ready for some respite. Joel watched Noah assemble the pipe bomb while leaning against a shovel in the shade of a lavish white oak. Noah had about him a sense of precision that suggested he had been doing this sort of thing from a very young age.

“Where the hell did y’all learn to do all this?” said Joel. His gray tee-shirt was almost soaked through with sweat. He was dirty and he could feel the sunburn on the back of his neck.

“My Uncle Nick,” he said. “The one who was in Iraq.”

“That what he did over there?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah. “It was basically his whole job to disarm these things. He also went to some African countries after his initial tours for demining operations.”

“Goddam. That’s some brave business.”

“Still took a zombie apocalypse and a church fire to kill him,” said Noah, digging out an impression in the dirt with his bare hands. “Fucking clown world.”

“You’re telling me,” said Joel. “You almost done?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m gonna go take a leak,” said Joel, looking around. “You good?”

Noah nodded, working carefully. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” said Joel.

After showing her how to sheer a sheep that morning, Cici showed Ellie all the different, easy parts you need to make a perfectly compact pipe bomb. “You can take it with you anywhere,” she said. “You can make them fancy, but they don’t need to be fancy. This gets the job done.”

They were out in the shed, which was more or less a workspace. It was all full of guns, assembled and in pieces, hanging on the wall, and in piles. There were axes, machetes, and two grindstones. There were shelves and shelves of different sized containers and wires, all colors and lengths, lining the walls. As Cici worked, Ellie sat on the tool bench, watching, rapt, by the good light coming through the window. “Where did you learn to do all this?” she said eventually.

“From my step-brother,” said Cici. “He was an EOD specialist in the Army.”    

“What’s that stand for?”

“Explosive Ordnance Disposal.”

"That’s insane,” said Ellie. “Back in Boston, we had some demolition training, but it was basically just like, how to make five different versions of a Molotov cocktail.”

“Those work pretty well, too,” said Cici.

“Later, I met this guy, Bill—he knows Joel—and he had basically trip-wired this entire little town where he lived. He showed Joel how to make nail bombs, too.”

“Nail bombs are not that much different than what we’re doing here,” said Cici. “Maybe a little cruder.”

“Seems a lot cruder.”

“So how do you like it?” said Cici. “Traveling with him? With Joel.”

“It’s okay,” said Ellie. She rested her chin on her knees. “He’s kind of...terse. Just sometimes though. He doesn’t talk much. When he does, I don't know. It’s okay. He seems a little stern, I know, but he's really not that bad.”

“He said you lost some people, back east. In Boston. And in Pittsburgh. I just—I wanted to say I’m sorry. That must have been really hard, and really scary.”

Ellie looked down at her Converse. One of them had come untied. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s not really...easy. I guess.”

“No, it isn’t.” Cici completed the pipe bomb, set it neatly on the workbench between them, like a cake. She didn’t press for details, on Boston, or Pittsburgh. “Voilà,” she said.

Ellie was oddly comforted. “That’s so freakin cool,” she said.

Back at the house, Cici got Ellie started on making a new loaf of bread. Meanwhile, she sliced up a fresh loaf from the pantry and set about making sandwiches.

“So, you go from making bombs to making sandwiches, huh?” said Ellie. She was standing at the counter kneading the dough. It was squishy, she thought. Weirdly satisfying.

“Pretty much,” said Cici. She had prepared four tall ham and cheese sandwiches, on sourdough. Simple fare. For the them, and for Joel and Noah. “Sometimes, we watch movies. Maybe we can watch one tonight.”

“This is my kind of living,” said Ellie.

They smiled at each other.

But then.

“What the fuck was that?” said Ellie.

They heard the mines going off, one by one, well into the distance. A rapid succession. Too many.

"Cici?"

“Shit."

"Was that the mines?" said Ellie. "Are they okay? What the fuck?"

In the trees, Joel zipped up and resituated himself. The thicket out there beyond the trench was quite beautiful. The nature sounds were almost deafening but in a way that suggested an earthly innocence. Joel was used to wearing a backpack, but with a home nearby, he didn’t really need one that day, so he felt light, despite the sweat and the physical exhaustion. Oddly enough, it had felt good to dig and to use his strength for something productive. Rather than killing, he was building for once. It had been a long time. He took the shotgun off his shoulder and checked the rounds. The sound it made was metal and ran in cacophony to the ongoing symphony of the trees.

He’d gone out maybe only ten yards or so, from Noah, who he could no longer hear but he could still see, through a crack in the foliage. He had made sure not to get beyond sight. Ready to head back, he put the gun strap back over his shoulder and took a step, breaking a twig beneath his boot, and the sound should have been innocuous, but instead, it seemed to trigger a familiar, inhuman noise nearby, and then that seemed to trigger another.

Joel swore under his breath, pumped the shotgun, and waited. He stood very still and listened to the cicadas clicking off in the trees in that ongoing rhythm, and out the corner of his eye he then saw something woman-shaped dart between a break in the foliage. If he truly parsed the noise of the thicket he could hear their heavy, frantic breathing. It was stalkers.

In slow silence he backed out of the thicket and made his way back to Noah at the trench. Noah was finishing up his wiring of the pipe bomb to the motion sensor and said something about how they were pretty much all set to go, whenever Joel was ready. Joel shushed him.

“Fuck,” said Noah, in a whisper. He picked up his shotgun off the earth. “What is it?”

“Stalkers,” said Joel. “I caught sight of one, but there’s more.”

"If we stay quiet, we can—”

But it was too late. They heard unsteady footsteps coming up the thicket. Raising their guns, they waited. A runner, looked to be a man, dressed in fishing gear stumbled out of the trees, bloodied up, shivering and afraid. Joel and Noah tried to stand perfectly still, but it saw them, and they were backed against the minefield, and it was no choice. Joel blew the thing’s jaw clean off. It dropped to the soil in silence, but the sound of the gun brought the stalkers out of the trees.

“Follow as close as you can,” said Noah.

“I will. Now go.”

It happened fast. As they navigated the mines, the sounds of the Infected in the woods rose up behind them in a maelstrom. There were way too many, maybe two dozen, must have been dormant in there, fucking lulled under the shade. When they got to the fence, Joel and Noah slipped back through the other side, turning around to watch a whole shitload, gnashing through the trees and descending upon the perimeter in total disorganization. Several fell into the trench, and the rest tripped the mines, plus the brand new pipe bomb, causing loud explosions that shrouded the whole field in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Joel and Noah hit the earth. It was so loud, Joel could feel the ringing in his ears vibrating in his teeth, and when, as he caught his bearings, he finally looked up, realizing it wasn’t over, Noah was dragging him to his feet, shouting something incomprehensible. Then, GET BACK. Scrambling into the tall grass, Joel watched as Noah lit up the canister of gasoline with a couple rags and chucked it as far and hard as he could past the barbed wire spools over the fence. When it landed, it blew to high heaven and in its wake, the sounds of all the Infected leftover from the mines turned to chaotic agony. There were birds dismounting from the trees in all directions, squawking. Then, a deadly quiet.

“Fucking shit,” said Noah, stumbling backward. He fell to his hands and knees, coughing from the dust.

As the ringing died down in his ears and in his molars, the afternoon seemed to crack wide open. Joel was on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. “You okay?” he said.

Noah was heaving now, out of breath, covered in the detritus from head to toe. He walked over, held out his hand, hauled Joel back to his feet. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

“I’m okay,” said Joel. He dusted himself off, still coughing and waving his way through the dust. He tripped forward to the fence and pressed into it, trying to make anything out at at all in the minefield. He could see some of the blistering bodies, smell the explosive energy, the roasting, human carnage. It was horrific. Then, he saw the trench. “Goddammit,” he said. “The whole thing is pulled up again.

Noah was keeled over, squinting out at the trees. “This place is fucked,” he said, more to himself than anything. “Lets get the fuck out of here.”

Cici took the walkie out of her back pocket. She shouted into it for a while, but nobody answered. She then rushed them out of the house.

"Where are we going?" said Ellie.

"Crow’s nest.”

Up the ladder, Ellie felt like she was just blowing in the wind, no direction. But Cici had kicked into some sort of military high gear. She was holding a sniper rifle, which Ellie did not remember seeing her grab. She then handed Ellie a loaded rifle of her own, which had been hanging on a hook by the door. It felt heavy and wooden, but Ellie understood it. Cici asked if Ellie knew what to do.

“Yeah,” said Ellie, shaken. “Joel showed me. In Pittsburgh."

She then handed Ellie a pair of binoculars, told her to watch the horizon, westerly. Ellie did as she was told.

The sun was hot. There were no clouds. The sky was big and blue, as a gem. She spotted a few plumes of smoke at the perimeter, but she didn't see Noah or Joel. If she couldn't see Joel, she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking for. All those explosions had sent her into an adrenaline-baked sort of panic, so that when Cici finally got Noah on the walkie, Ellie was so fucking relieved, she let go of the binoculars so that they thudded to the floor. She felt stupid, picked them up immediately, but then closed her eyes and felt an unexpected flood, again. Like she wanted to go home. Whatever that meant. But it was really powerful. She thought she might puke. She held it inside. “Holy shit,” she said.

“We’re okay,” said Noah over the walkie. “Infected ambushed us at the trench. But it’s done. Over.”

“Thank fucking god,” said Cici. “Me and Ellie got the scope on your location, just in case. Over.”

“Thanks,” said Noah. “I’m pretty sure they’re all fried. But they took the trench with them, and a bunch of the mines. We had to light up the rest with gasoline. The whole section is fucked up, even worse than before. Over.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Cici, hanging her head. “Okay. You boys just get back here. Over.”

“Okay."

Over.

Ellie watched then as Cici set down the walkie and leaned, slowly, against the rifle, almost struggling to keep her balance. She had her eyes pressed shut, as if praying. Her blond hair was braided over her shoulder, but the plaits were all loose now. “Fuck,” she said, in a whisper.

"They're okay," said Ellie.

But Cici was talking to herself then. Not in a crazy way, just a stressed way, almost like she had forgotten that Ellie was in the room. “I can’t do this anymore,” she was saying.

"That’s my fucking brother," he said.

She was not okay, in the radio tower.

"Screw it."

Ellie went over to Cici and placed her hand on Cici’s shoulder. She didn’t want to be standing there alone anymore, and the smell of the smoke was starting to waft in with the breeze.