#elliewilliamsxabbyanderson

[quillsickink]

Whelp, finally churned out Chapter 2 of this Ellie/Abby fic. This chapter was primarily focused on Ellie and Lev’s interaction, but the next installment will finally have our girls finally meet face-to-face. There was a lot going on in this one and I’m excited to move on and introduce a new character: the lodge.

[quillsickink]

I’ve meant to churn out the first chapter of this slow-burn nightmare for a while, so here we go. Caution - this is an eventual Ellie/Abby fic, so if you are not a fan - please evacuate while you can!

This story begins in a slightly alternate timeline from the events of the game. We start after three characters choose to make a handful of very different decisions. 1. Owen deserted to Santa Barbara while Abby and Yara rescued Lev. Dispirited, Abby fled with Lev to travel north along the coast instead of following her former friends to southern California. In a desperate effort to find a place in the world for them, she heads to an abandoned conduit for the Fireflies - an enigmatic hunting lodge from her adolescence. 2. Tommy refused to cooperate with Jesse and his request to come home. He instead continued his pursuit for revenge against Abby, having found evidence she defected and is wanted for murder by the Washington Liberation Front. 3. Broken from finding a mere empty aquarium after killing Nora, Ellie returned to the theater. Tommy's refusal to return to Jackson spurs her to make a drastic decision to abandon Dina and Jesse to bring him home.

With that, we start in a little town outside of just west of Montana.

===

Ellie's sneakers slap hard against the pavement as she trots down the arcade's alley. She pushes sharply against the emergency exit, ignoring the cold rain pelting her face.  She hisses, nearly losing her balance on a slick patch of cracked asphalt.

"Fuck-"She breathes after righting herself and throws her shoulder against the entrance.

The hinges are stubborn, but after a couple of shoves, it gives way. She shrinks inside and pulls back the hood of her jacket from her soaked head of hair.

Shouldn't have bothered, Ellie thinks bitterly, wiping the rainwater from her eyes. A finger strokes the grip of her revolver as she takes a moment to check her sixes.

She presses the switch attached to her pack's flashlight, and it flickers on, illuminating the dusty room. Storm clouds had quickly blotted out the setting sun on the ruined city, and the sound of rolling thunder was enclosing on the outskirts of town.

Ellie shudders and takes a moment to run her hands along her forearms in a vain attempt to warm herself. She strips herself tiredly of her wet coat and overshirt and tosses the articles across the back of a weathered chair to dry.

It was going to be hell managing to pick up Tommy's trail again after tonight if she relied on the ground.

Whatever tracks or evidence he or Abby had left behind would have surely been washed away by morning. She groans at the possibility. There had been many nights where she was left to wrestle with the genuine possibility of giving up and returning to Jackson.

Ellie didn't want to face another morning of wrestling with herself at another dead end.

Above Scars, wolves, and infected - the weather had proven to be Ellie's most frustrating obstacle. Heavy and often unpredictable showers had kept her circling the area for far longer than she had anticipated. It seemed each time she caught the wind of Tommy's trail, she was met with nothing.

Another late night, she thinks, trotting quickly up the stairs. The second floor had a window featuring a downhill view of a formerly commercial section of town. It was worth the long sprint back in the storm if it meant camping with a good line of sight for the evening.

It had been difficult to move anywhere since yesterday, and she had doubts Tommy could cover much ground either. Not being able to see the ground six feet in front of you would be enough for anyone to seek shelter.

Ellie catches her breath and slides down the wall next to the open window. Her eyes scan the darkening streets, looking for the sign of fire or flashlight inside an endless assortment of broken, boarded windows.

It was easy to look for signs of life here; it had been improbably peaceful since her arrival. There seemed to be little human presence at all, save for the band of wolves she had stalked here. She had heard gunfire some days ago, her only clue that Tommy was still lingering somewhere nearby. Trees had taken over most of the downtown buildings, uprooting foundations and creating a canopy of shade and a sea of broken concrete. It was the perfect place to hide, both for herself and Tommy... or Abby.

The thought of the latter intruded into the forefront of her mind more often than she liked to admit.

Ellies wonders if the murderer's trail had gone cold for him, too. Why else would someone linger here?

She carefully rifles through her pack and plucks free a pair of cracked binoculars, pushing the thought of Joel's killer away. If was painful to dwell on, causing her to lose her focus.

Ellie peers through the lens, searching for the tell-tale signs of flashlight or fire.

She allows her arms to rest against the windowsill. Muscles ache from a tedious day of tracking, and she is hungry, but there's little motivation to eat. Not right now.

"Goddamnit," She whispers under her breath. All clues pointed the other woman had headed north along the freeway to this place. Ellie had no choice but to follow the wolves' tire tracks carefully, a tedious process, and a measure of Ellie's patience.

Ellie had spent weeks trodding after them. Just far enough behind as not to alert them of her presence, but close enough that she couldn't lose them in an emergency.

Snake, traitor, bitch. There were many choice words the wolves had picked to reference Abby, which piqued her interest. Ellie had only picked up bits of conversation, but it seemed her former brethren had equally vitriolic relationships with her.

Wonder what the hell you did to them. Something alarming enough to send a squad after you, at least.

Despite the slow start, stalking them had provided her with an unreliable stream of information. The circumstance had proven to be working in Ellie's favor, and that's all that mattered at present. Following them hadn't been easy in any capacity, but it was the only lead she had since discovering the aquarium was a dead-end.

She shuddered, thinking about a handful of close calls that had kept her on her toes.

A buzz around their camp indicated they were hot on Abby's heels, but Ellie had suspicions they had been pressured from within to turn back. A fatal run-in with infected had dampened their spirits and left two of them dead. Not everyone who split off to escape came back to regroup.

A three-day barrage of miserable weather had been the nail in the coffin for their expedition to bring Abby to justice. Ellie had watched their hopes deteriorate before they tucked their tails and began the trek back to Seattle. That had been a hard night for her.  Equally defeated, she was forced to choose between leading a blind goose-chase or returning to Jackson. Again.

And for what? This was a persistent thought for her. For Dina?

She reaches for her journal and begins to notate her position. No sign of life anywhere. Ellie eyes the countless windows where inevitably, she would hope to see signs of light.

She probably despises me.  

After everything they had done to get this far.  

All the blood that had been spilled just to get here, with no tangible resolution in sight.

She kept these thoughts to herself, feeling them too miserable to bring to life.

She felt there was nothing left in Jackson for her. Not right now. Ellie had broken a lot of promises already. Returning home wasn't plausible until she kept her word to Maria, or buried Abby. Whichever came first.

She opens the leatherbound book to the middle, carefully removing the tattered bookmark. Her fingers press against a photo carefully tucked into the spine.

Dina.

Ellie's lips twist into a partial smile.

Bet you're really showing by now. For sure.

She presses the tip of her pen to the paper.

She had spent weeks trying to suppress the notion that they hadn't made it back to Jackson.

Jesse better be taking care of you, she writes slowly.

Her eyebrows furrow.

It hurts to say so.

The words scratch heavily into the paper, and she pauses to twirl her pen.

Day 7 in this place. Four days since I heard gunfire. No sign of life today. Another storm is blowing in. Feels like it is going to freeze over soon.

Ellie pauses, lifting her head to take a tentative peek over the sill. She hoped the temperature didn't dip too low tonight.

Time passed slowly in moments like these. Three months of traveling alone had begun to take its toll on her spirit. The disconnect between Dina and Jesse felt real; separated now for almost twelve weeks.

She had said things that she had slowly begun to regret. Even worse, regrets from words she didn't say.

Ellie twirls the pen in her fingers.

Running low on ink. I should probably try to find another soon.

She jots a final statement in her entry for tonight.

I hope one day you understand.

She tucks the picture into the journal and moves the ribbon to the following page—time to put this away and be diligent, for now.

===

"Tommy's not coming back."

Jesse had knocked defeatedly at the theater door. When Ellie opened it, his expression spoke volumes on the grimness of the situation.

"I tried to reason with him, but-" Jesse sighs in frustration.

"-he's caught wind that Abby's defected. She's left Seattle."

Ellie bites her lip, a seed of dread growing in her stomach.

"Where did you see him last?" She asks sternly, gripping the straps of her pack.

---

"Take her home, Jesse," The exhaustion in her voice the following morning was apparent. She had barely slept, rattled by her experience in the hospital. The weight of the pipe in her hands and Nora's face haunted her thoughts, and there was little comfort in Dina's arms. In the wee hours of the morning, she had grown numb to her decision.

"If something happens to Dina or the baby-"

"You won't be able to forgive yourself?" Jesse was understandably angry. He had caught her on the way out, fully prepared to depart without them. The look of surprise on her face had spoiled her intentions.

Jesse couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Ellie abandoning them to leave on her own.

"No. I couldn't. And she can't go home on her own-" Ellie finds it challenging to look at him in the eyes.

"You're not thinking straight-"

"No, Jesse, I...I don't know. I do know if I'm going to find Tommy, I have to think like him,"

Jesse was speechless.

Ellie knew well enough how clever he was at covering his tracks.  

"He's not going stop until he has her head." She forces herself to lower her voice, should she threaten to wake Dina.

Jesse clenches his fists, and Ellie gestures toward the back of the building.

"...I promised Maria. Dina's too sick to see the end of this. If you really want to help, just take her and go back to Jackson,"

"Ellie-"

"Don't follow me."

Jesse stares incredulously, shaking his head in disappointment.

"You're making a mistake."

Ellie did not respond and instead turned to leave.  

She hoped Dina was able to read the hastily penned letter before Jesse could spill her transgression.

The door's weight felt enormous on the way out.

===

Ellie wakes with a start, her eyes fluttering open to a surprisingly vibrant room. Exhausted, she had fallen asleep in the crook of her elbow.  

Shit.

She hadn't intended to sleep this long. Ellie squints and shields her eyes from the grey skylight. It takes a moment for her to grasp what she sees, struggling to peel reality away from a familiar nightmare.

Her heart skips as a beat as she notices a dark contrast of black smoke against ash-colored clouds. She grabs frantically for the binoculars and shoots upright to her feet. Peering expectantly through the lens, she focuses in on the location of the fire.

The trail disappears behind the rooftop of a brewery in the distance. Ellie racks her brain for details - recalling the layout of the streets of the city's downtown.

Has to be him, She thinks as she scrambles to gather her things.

Couldn't be more than a few miles off.  If I keep a steady pace, I could reach the campsite by noon.

===

"Abby!"

Lev's voice echoes through the department store, and Abby's head whips to greet him. He waves her over to where he's kneeling across the street.

She grunts and rises to her feet, having just rummaged through the pack of a long-dead drifter. Poor guy didn't have much to his name - at least not when he died. She dusted off her hands before moving to join Lev, kneeling next to another corpse lodged in the threshold of a general store. Still somewhat fresh.

"Do you know him?" Lev asks curiously, reaching for a pouch attached at its side. Abby furrows her brows as she takes a look, allowing her counterpart to rummage through the rucksack.  

"No," She shakes her head. "Doesn't look familiar. Has to be one of the assholes that was following us," Abby inspects the unfamiliar man's face, then his jacket.

"There were a lot of us,"

No patches of any kind - must be new. She reaches for his neck, carefully pulling a bloodied chain from the dead man's collar. Aha.

"W.T.," She says, reading the two letters stamped into the tag. "Weird. Just initials," Abby drops the tags, which clink pitifully against his chest.

"Wonder what they stood for."

"Hey-" Abby cracks a faint smile and reaches down to pluck something from between the corpse's fingers. Lev eyes her incredulously.

"Missed something," She hums fondly and presents it to her counterpart to have a look.

It's a pistol - in surprisingly good condition. Abby allows her fingers to run across the barrel before engaging the safety. Only two bullets left, she thinks, before slipping the gun into her side-holster. The former wolf notices the pout forming at the corner of Lev's mouth, and she stifles a chuckle.

"This one's nice, but it's got some kick to it. The gun I gave you suits you," Abby crosses her arms and Lev suppresses the urge to argue.

"Yeah..." He sighs, carefully stepping over a crumbled bookcase used at one point to barricade the entrance. Abby follows suit behind him. He had seemed morose since this morning, not that she could blame him. She had struggled to keep them occupied and maintaining momentum; for the betterment of them both. The lingering effects of Yara's death were most noticeable when there wasn't an immediate goal under their nose.

Having direction kept her from dwelling too much on the recent.

She often thought of Yara. And Owen...and Mel. Their last interaction together had left a bitter taste in her mouth. As much as their abandonment had stung, she still hoped they had made it to Santa Barbara in one piece. She had meant her word when she promised she would head in the opposite direction, at least for the time being.

Abby wondered how Alice was faring at sea.

Similar thoughts intruded often, and she found it necessary to find something distract herself. Right now, her focus was keeping Lev safe and getting the two of them to the lodge.

"Been a while since we've practiced," She adds as they move into the street. Abby leads the two of them along, her eyes looking expectantly for the inn's sign in the distance. It "Maybe we can set up some targets once we get out of town,"

Lev nods and shrugs his shoulders.

"That would be nice," He hums, fiddling with the straps of his pack.

Abby stifles a sigh. I'll cheer you up eventually. Somehow.

The walk to their camp was brief, and soon enough, Abby could see the familiar flaking, sky blue exterior of the 'Silver Cloud'. It had been a long day of scouring for supplies, and the idea of resting her legs was more than appealing.

Abby grunts as she struggles to peel back a rusted tin section used to bar the window. A bit of elbow grease was enough to peel it back and allow Lev to slip through the opening. Abby follows shortly after, careful not to let the metal make too much noise behind them.

Lev breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes his shoulders. The inn smelled like the underside of a pier, Abby thought as she wrinkled her nose. But it was safe, and that's all that mattered. Whoever the owners were before the outbreak had taken care to seal the place shut before closing the doors. The roof sagged slightly from years of neglected, unattended leaks on the south end, but it had managed to stay dry enough to use as shelter.

Lev carefully settles onto the floor after removing his pack. Abby watches as he begins to pull a few items from the day's scavenger hunt, carefully inspecting their spoils.

Abby turns to rifle through her backpack. They had enough food for now, but they still needed a few more things before she could comfortably have them venture out of town. It might be some time before they could scavenge a town for necessities.

Preparing for a trip of this magnitude had taken longer than anticipated; with limited supplies, Abby had resorted to exhausting every potential resource they could explore along their way. They had spent themselves looting the husks of department stores, pharmacies, residences, and a sole general store for any useful materials they could find.

She pulls a small tin from her pack, a makeshift first aid kit. Abby had been more conscientious of the need lately after the trauma of dealing with Yara's injury. The former wolf purses her lips as she carefully opens it, examining its meager contents.

A handle of sewing needles in a yellowed, plastic package. A small bottle of alcohol and a sterile razor. A pitiful wad of unused gauze.

She blinks, recalling have found that Mel and Owen had not only left them behind; they had also taken the precious medical kit she had almost gotten herself killed to get her hands on. The feeling of dread in her stomach when she and Lev returned to see a missing boat was hard to forget.

Blinking away the thought, she puts a spool of thread inside the tin and bitterly snaps the container shut.

"Hey," Lev murmurs, holding an object up for inspection in the dim light. "Look at this,"

Abby peers up from her thoughts to see her counterpart clasping what appeared to be a coin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Found it in a matchbox," He flips it over to inspect the back, lips pursed in disappointment.

"We needed the matches."

Abby extends her arm and gestures for Lev to hand it over.

"Let me see," She purrs quietly as she plucks it from his palm. The blond squints, her eyebrows raising.

"This is a wheat penny," She hums and offers it back. "You should keep it. They're good luck."

"Huh. A wheat penny," Lev repeats curiously, rolling the coin between his fingers.

"You believe in luck?" Lev eyes her incredulously as he flops onto a nearby couch, adopted as a bed. He tucks the coin into the pocket of his pants for safekeeping.

Abby smiles and raises a brow.

"Sure. When I'm lucky," Abby slides into an armchair with a quiet huff and begins to rub the tension in the back of her neck. She rests her head against the cushioned back, her eyelids growing heavy.

"We should get some rest. Got a long day ahead of us," Abby sinks further into the worn leather, throwing her legs across the chair's arm. She works a hand into her back pocket to remove a map, heavily creased and often referenced. She carefully unfolds it, her eyes drawn to a penciled circle at the outer edge.

"Nearly there," She mutters under her breath, tapping their location. Carefully, she traces her finger along the highlighted route to their destination. Getting there wasn't as easy as the mapped route suggested. Abby had taken the time to mark their actual path, which proved to be a much more jagged and cumbersome hike than anticipated.

"This is our last night here, right?" He asks quietly.

"Swear," She sighs, rolling onto her side. "Last night. We head out first thing in the morning."

Lev sighs in relief and closes his eyes.

They had hunkered down in this place for longer than she cared to admit.

Having the WLF on their heels in the early weeks had fatigued them. The two had spent time resting and biding their time here until she felt they were ready to leave.

Shaking them off of their heels had been a victory for them. Now, they just had to keep moving.

"You think the lodge is still empty?" He whispers. Abby closes the map as dusk dies outside, along with her light source. She furrows her brow.

"I hope so, Lev."

Abby didn't really know what propelled her to take them there. Intuition? A sense of nostalgia? A little bit of both.

She had only been there once with her father when she was about Lev's age. Back when the Fireflies were naively hopeful.

But it was the most extraordinary few months of her life before the Fireflies found it in their best interest to abandon the property. She knew that the lodge was exploited as a conduit for them in the faction's early years. They were moving on a shred of hope that it was still there.

The place had good bones...at least that's what her father would say. She wasn't an engineer by any means, but she was hoping she and Lev could patch any disrepair that might have overcome it…

It was the only place that came to mind when she thought of rebuilding her life.

===

"Fuck,' Abby stutters as she stumbles forward onto her knees. The wolf's boot catches on the wheels of an overturned utility cart. She's shivering, soaked. Foul greywater reaches to her elbows, and she can't see her hands through the filth of it all. In a panic, he pushes herself to her feet and propels herself forward.

A dismal realization overcomes her; she's back in St. Mary's.

No, no, no...even worse. Abby's head whips desperately to find some sort of evidence of her whereabouts. She stifles a cry of terror when she sees the flickering emergency room sign swinging woefully in her peripheral. The whirling growl of a generator sings somewhere in the distance.

The air smells familiarly sour, and she's painfully aware that her hands are empty. Her pack is gone and stripped of all her weapons, Abby is vulnerable and naked to her environment. A quickly approaching gurgling scream encumbers her senses, and her instincts only tell her to move forward. Trembling fingers reach frantically at her hip for a pistol that's no longer there.

Dread transmutes to sickness as she turns a corner to be met with a dead-end.

The sound of flesh and bone scraping against the walls sends a shiver of horror down her spine. Abby's body reluctantly swivels to face the monster lunging aggressively toward her.

She tries to scream, but the sound dies in her throat. She can see every face in the tangled amalgamation of the Rat King. It's twisted core rolls closer, and it dawns on her that the mountain of fungus and flesh isn't a conglomerate of unknown stalkers, but of people she knows—her friends.

The twisted gaze of Mel and Owen cause her to cry out for help. Manny's slack jaw and aimless stare are positioned next to the familiar faces of dead Scars. Yara and Lev. The shoulders supporting them all attaches onto a central face - a memory of a man she had compartmentalized and locked away for some time.

Joel Miller. He stares at her, and Abby snaps her jaw closed. Her body trembles, and she forces her eyes shut as the snarling of the beast swallows her whole. A young woman's scream echoes in her thoughts as her eyes snap awake before the creature's maw reaches her.

Her mind wanders to the ski resort- the grisly sound of metal against skull-bone and the young girl's piercing cry on the floor, begging her to stop.

"Please, don't do this-!"

The creature stumbles aside, and finally, Abby can see a young woman's figure kneeling in the flood-waters.

"Abby, please don't do this-!"

---

Abby startles awake, her forehead coated with a thin sheen of sweat. She takes a deep breath as she snaps up to rest on her elbows, finding the air thick and hard to breathe. The shrill screech of her name was disturbing.

It's cold in the riverside inn, but she's burning hot - her shirt dampened from wrestling a nightmare in the morning's wee hours. Abby takes a few moments to regain her senses, relieved to see it was still early. Tiredly fixated on the pinholes of grey light streaming from the ceiling, Abby Anderson forces herself to sit. It's unbearably quiet.

Thank God, she thinks, allowing her head to rest between her knees. She was surprisingly happy to be here, in this dank place. Nausea slowly begins to ebb away.

It had been a while. Abby tries to remember the last time she dreamed about the hospital. Her fingers massage at a knot of muscle in her neck.

That's not what happened...with the girl, back in Jackson. She didn't know my name.

The incarnation of Joel and the girl's cry for mercy had truly grated her. More than that vile creature.

Funny, she thought. She had tucked that memory to bed some time ago, having washed it away with a new sense of purpose. She shakes her head, instead choosing to turn toward Lev's sleeping form.

Except he's not there. Instead, Abby's met by with the sight of an empty couch.

Her name is Ellie, she recalls suddenly. Joel Miller's little counterpart. The girl with the cure.

She rubs at her eyes.

No time to dwell on it now, she thinks, slowly moving to her feet. The muscles in her jaw ache with tension, and she slowly stretches her mouth open. Ouch. Fuck, that hurts.

It had been a long time since her mind had wandered to linger on the man who killed her father. Those feelings of hatred and resentment had been excised and buried. It seemed guilt had trickled into the empty space. It was growing harder to ignore, especially in moments where she found herself alone.

She had done far worse things to people that weighed on her less. But why?

He deserved it.

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers, reaching to grab her jacket and boots.

She opts to rise on her feet and itemize her things to prepare for the journey that lies ahead. Dawn was fading, and she wanted to hit the pavement before the day got away from them.

"Lev?" She asks hoarsely, moving slowly to the back door. She notices it's unlocked, and the rotting shade was open.

She opens it and steps onto the dock. Lev is sitting on the edge and turns to look at her. He seems serene this morning.

"Morning," He says quietly as Abby comes to sit next to him, relieved. She yawns, and he tucks his knee to have a place to rest his chin.

His eyes focus on a thick line running from his palm into the dark water.

The two didn't say anything for a few minutes. The breeze blowing in the water felt nice, and Abby allowed it to rejuvenate her spirit.

"I thought maybe we could have breakfast before we go," Lev begins to wrap the line leading down to the hook, removing the slack. The shadow of a fish flickers into view, prompting Abby to notice a nearby bucket, teeming with several others.

"Good idea."

===

Weird.

A dead wolf.

Ellie takes a careful glance around before squatting to investigate the corpse.

'So you're the one they left behind,' Ellie thinks, rifling through the dead man's pockets. The body was still...somewhat fresh.

Gross. Ellie grimaces as she picks up the coat in his hands. Still dry, without much blood on it. She would soon need it, as a simple overshirt wasn't going to cut surviving a harsh winter. The temperature was already starting to drop now as autumn was kicking into full swing again.

She runs her fingers across the WLF emblem stitched onto the bicep. The article was still in pretty good shape.

She offers an empathetic glance as she shrugs the jacket across her shoulders. The brunette found it a bit ironic to be brandishing WLF, not that she had much choice. She felt it a shame she couldn't find a proper replacement.

Ellie pauses as she realizes his gun is missing from his holster. Her gaze narrows and her breathing slows as she weighs the possibilities.

Her attention is drawn to a wound at his chest.

Clean shot, large bullet. So this was the last rifle blast I heard.

Instinctually, she peers over her shoulder at the many possible vantage points. She traces each one, trying to figure where the shooter was standing.

Tommy. Had to have been him.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it was the only clue she had to go on. Excitement swells in her chest - instinct was telling her she was moving in the right direction.

She exits the shop, leaving the door open the way that she had found it. It closes slowly against the body in the threshold.

I'm convincing you to come back, even if it kills me.

She picks up the pace, slipping into the liminal spaces of the broken city's alleyways.

And what if it's not him?

Ellie struggles to catch her breath as she finds herself in a full-blown sprint.

A part of her screams in anticipation; what if it's Abby?

Her heart pounds, beating painfully against her ribcage.

She wished she could stop hoping that it was. There was a sliver of her that simply refused to let it go.

Her body slams loudly against a chain-link fence, and her fingers curl viciously through the openings. She presses her forehead against the metal links.

The smoke is feigning in color, but it was closer.

She pulls herself up, scrambling to the slide over the top.

Ellie pauses to wipe the sweat from her eyes.

Wonder what Dina would think - seeing me like this.

Doesn't matter.

Ten minutes at a time.

The bottom of her soles slam against the concrete, and she's off again.

Just follow the smoke.

===

"C'mon Lev," Abby peers nervously over her shoulder.

"We're more exposed than I would like to be,"

Lev stares in wonder over the bridge's side, leaning against the concrete with his elbows. There was something about rushing water that was captivating, especially with a view like this.

The river below had become swollen from heavy rainfall, peppered with old cars and carcasses of boats. The bridge itself had long since collapsed in the center. Instead, it served as a downward ramp into the rushing water. A conglomerate of cars and pontoon boats from neighboring docks had formed a footbridge to the other side.

Lev moves to crouch beside Abby next to a shelled tanker. She raises a brow as she stares at the trail of cars before them. A look upriver only showed miles of running water, with no evidence of another way across.

Abby huffs in thought.

"That's...a long detour," Lev murmurs as he studies the pebbled bank. They had been walking non-stop since breakfast. The sun had settled in the west, threatening to retreat behind the mountains in the distance.

The bridge had collapsed as to leave a path of broken automobile rooftops to tread across. Rain from the night prior had risen the water level yet again, evident by the muddy current below.

"Yeah...shit," Abby rubs at her chin and slides to sit. She allows her pack to slip from her shoulders onto the fractured asphalt and turns to Lev.

"It's not safe. We have to wait,"

Lev feels her frustration, sighing in disappointment. He turns his attention downriver, thinking hard for any semblance of an idea.

"Abby," He murmurs after a few moments. Abby turns to him while unscrewing her canteen, before nearly draining half of it.

"Look, there." He squints, pointing indistinctly to the favoring riverbank. Abby squints, trying to spot what Lev is referencing. It soon becomes evident as she makes out a dull, orange blinking light at the edge of the water. The dimming sun favors the detail, and she strains her eyes to get a better look.

"Attached to the line, across the water," Lev whispers. "That box. Can it take us across?"

Abby realizes he's talking about a nearby metal cab, half-way hidden in the undergrowth. She had assumed it to be a power-line, and her pulse quickens as she realizes it's a fashioned, rugged lift. Clever.

"Someone's been here recently," Abby looks hard at the forest across the river. The line angles high above them to meet the slope on the other side, disappearing somewhere in the trees.

"See the generator?"

Lev blinks, nodding. Abby can almost see the wheels turning, and her gut starts to sink.

"Maybe it works-"

"Absolutely not," Abby says immediately, shaking her head. She almost feels sick thinking about it.

"And who is to say it's safe- ?"

"You said yourself, someone's using it," Lev interrupts her, nearly pleading in earnest. Thunder rolls somewhere beyond the mountains, and seeing the expression on Abby's face, Lev looks away in disappointment.

"It might take days for the river to drop," He leans tiredly against the car and crosses his arm. Abby stays quiet for a moment, and she can see he's despondent.

He was right about that. Abby sighs, peering thoughtfully at him as Lev peers into the water below.

"If it's not lowered by morning, we'll check it out. Deal?" She sighs, her hands resting on her hips.

Lev hesitantly nods, and a gentle smile tugs at his lips.

"Okay."

"I know what you're thinking. All the good things about fear. Yada-yada."

"Yada-yada?"

"Don't worry about it-," Abby tosses Lev his pack.

"... I'm sorry, Abby."

Abby walks a few paces and sharply pulls at the old tailgate of an old pick-up. It squeals as she lowers it to use as a seat.  

She tries not to think about the cable-car.

"Don't be. Let's get some rest. It's getting dark."

===

Ellie slips to the ground, her chest heaving to catch her breath.

A runner gurgles piteously on the ground beside her. She watches as it grows still in the grass before her fingers relax on the handle of her bloodied machete.

Shaky fingers turn off her flashlight, allowing the soft-orange glow of the generator to light the riverbank.

Her mind hums numbly with fatigue, and she forces herself to take a few minutes to rest. Ellie had been pushing tirelessly today, desperate to make up for the lost time she took investigating the campsite.

Whether it was Tommy - or someone else - they hadn't left much for her to recover. She had discovered only the charred remains of a perceived cooking fire, which had been neatly scratched away save for a handful of burning coals. A pile of stripped fish-bones did little to identify who had started it.

No scraps, no belongings left behind. The only notable clue had been the imprint of a boot-heel entrenched in a sodden patch of grass up the street. Fresh.

Whoever it was had intentions to head east, towards Libby, denoted by the signs.

She stares blankly at the generator. Hugged by tall grass underneath a shelter, she almost hadn't seen it...and probably wouldn't have in daylight. A gas canister lay on its side amid a patch of trampled grass. Whoever had left it was kind enough to screw the cap closed.

Someone was here, and not long ago. Ellie stares at the cable high above her, and the gondola, which hung only a few meters away. It gives a groan as it swings, agitated by a gust of wind.

Ellie squints with exertion as she lifts herself onto her feet. She had wandered to the river's edge, having spotted a potential foot trail near the road. The bridge in the distance offered little promise she could use it as a means across the river. It seemed to have collapsed and crumbled into the water below.

In an effort to find some semblance of a boat, she was met with this.

Ellie spots several other infected littered in the surrounding area as she carefully takes a look around. All shot, save for the one.

Tommy...if it was you, you left in a hurry. The noise must have drawn them out of the undergrowth.  

I can't afford to stay here tonight.

Ellie staggers to pick up the canister and carefully moves to fuel the generator with what remained.

This might be the dumbest thing I've ever done, she thinks, glancing at the dilapidated bridge downriver.

She takes a few tentative steps toward the rusted cab on the platform to inspect the interior.

Seems to be in okay shape.

Ellie presses her boot into the floor to test its integrity. It was exceptionally dark inside, but Ellie had faith that it could hold her across. Somebody had trusted it enough, at least.

A muffled clap of thunder startles her, and she shakes her head in disbelief at what she was about to do.

The shriek of a clicker echoes in the distance. Rainy weather seemed to disturb them as well – drawing them out from the darkness into the rain.

There's not enough time to find another way across tonight.

Ellie grips the handle of the generator's starter cord and gives it a few sharp tugs. It growls in response, the mechanical roar spurring her adrenaline to spike. The platform beneath her vibrates, and Ellie holds her breath as the lift squeaks to life. The gondola lurches forward with a jolt, and she's suddenly made aware that the motor is not going to wait for her to board.

Ellie pulls herself up into the gondola before it can escape the platform. She stumbles inside, careful not to spill backward out of the open door.  A nervous laugh escapes her as the cab sways, pulling her skyward along the cable. She allows herself to sit, her back pressed against the cold aluminum. Her eyes squint the car's body scrapes along the weathered line, and she takes a few deep breaths while the swinging slows to a gentle sway.  Ellie thinks of all the ways she would suffer if the car detached, finding herself smiling in fear and disbelief.

I may have actually lost it, Jesse.

Her gaze is drawn out the window where the cable ran to an identical platform, presumably among the trees on the other side of the river.

Just a few more minutes… then I'm never doing anything like this again. Ever… ever again.

===

Abby awakes to the sound of a screech.

Before she can even comprehend what's happening, she's upright in the truck's bed.  She jerks her head to see Lev already on his feet, staring across the water.

The two offer a confused glance to one another. Lev's mouth hangs open, but before he can say anything, Abby sees the cable-car floating above the river along its suspended course. A mechanical whir slices in the air, the unmistakable groan of a gas generator.

A clicker cries out again in the distance.

"Someone's in there -"Lev whispers and kneels behind the truck out of eyesight. Abby purses her lips in worry as she zips her coat closed.  

"Lev, c'mon," She whispers hurriedly, her gaze following the gondola's movement.

Who the hell is in there?

"We have to move."