The Last Of Us: Past And Present

Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

When Devin caught sight of Joel, he felt his stomach roll. Joel's nose was slightly dis colored, and broken. The skin under his eye was swollen, and the eye itself was bloodshot. His face was a mix of open wounds and bruises. Blood flowed from his temple. From where Devin was, running with Ellie to Joel, he could see the knife sticking from his abdomen.

Devin skidded to a stop and kneeled down next to Joel. As easily and gently as he could, Devin rolled Joel onto his back, so as to assess the knife wound.

Ellie got down next to him. "Joel...Joel?" She looked over at Devin, who was gently looking over the wound. "What do we do?" She asked. Devin leaned back, and rubbed a hand through his hair. "We're gonna' have to move him. But we've got to be careful. If that knife falls out, it'll be like a dam breaking. He's bleeding right noe, but it could be ten times worse."

Devin moved to Joel's head and grabbed him by the armpits. Ellie got his legs. The two were about to lift, when they heard the sound of pounding feet. Ellie looked behind her to see Tommy and Rebecca running over. "What happened?" Tommy asked, worry and fear dripping from every word.

"Joel's been stabbed. We need to get him out of here." Without replying, Tommy picked Joel up bridal style. "Devin, you lead the way." Devin nodded his head, and drew the .357 before beginning down the hallway. Rebecca stopped only long enough to retrieve Joel and Ellie's gear before hurrying to catch up.

The group hurried to the first floor, and Devin found a door out. He opened it, to see the Hunters who'd chased Tommy and Rebecca re-entering the clearing. Devin shut the door, and stepped back. His eye drifted around the loading bay, and didn't stop until they fell upon the T-bolt.

"Bec!" He called, pointing towards the rifle. Rebecca handed Ellie her Backpack before going to pick up the T-bolt. Devin pulled an M1911 from his pack and handed it to Ellie. "You ready?" He asked. No one spoke. Devin looked back to the door. "Let's move." He kicked it open, and they opened fire.

The sun rose, slowly covering the Hilltop in sunlight. The weather was nice and cool. The birds began to sing noisily. The air smelt fresh, crisp, and clean. The day was perfect.

Jamie sat on the grass, in the shade of the manor, looking at the Hilltop with a kind of adoration. Jamie looked up at the sky, and guessed it was sometime in September, although he couldn't be sure. He wasn't really sure of anything, except his own survival. Jamie reached up and pulled the beanie he always wore off of his head. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and slid the cap back onto his head. As he sat, staring out at the Hilltop, someone sat down next to him. He looked over, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"And how is my favorite girl in all of the Hilltop doing?" She shrugged her shoulders and rested her head on her knees. Jamie gently nudged her arm with his elbow. "Everything alright Ellie?" Ellie nodded again, still staring out at the Hilltop. Jamie breathed in through his mouth, and exhaled through his nose.

"You did say you weren't sure if he's dead. You said he ran off, right?"

"I don't even know anymore. I think he did." Jamie processed this for a second, trying to think about what he could say. "Well...you never know." His voice was firm. "He might have made it out of there. He might be holed up somewhere, waiting for the right opportunity." It was obvious that Ellie didn't believe that. Neither did Jamie.

Jamie suddenly pulled his backpack off of his shoulders. "I almost forgot...I got something for ya'." Ellie looked over at Jamie, who didn't remove his hand, until he found what he was looking for. When Jamie removed his hand from the pack, Ellie saw several comic books. Her eyes lit up, and she took them gratefully. There were several Savage Starlight comics...and one she had never heard of before. She looked at the cover carefully. On it was a man in a Sheriff's uniform, a shotgun in his hand. He was standing in front of a store's shattered window. Reflected in the shattered glass were images of walking corpses.