𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚜

chapter fifteen : dreaming

[XV]

CARRYING THE GENERATOR, even just three blocks, was a fucking nightmare.

The thing weighed about three tons, which was on top of the stuffed backpack I was wearing, and the half-full petrol tank that had been sat next to it in the supply room. It was fairly torturous, having to drag the heavy hunk of metal in one arm, and the petrol in the other, completely unarmed for about a quarter hour of brisk walking. I felt like at any moment I could be sniped or shot or have a grenade thrown at me. I had to remind myself that under technicalities, I wasn't an intruder, even though I didn't have marvellous intentions with the WLF. But when I finally made it back to the video store where Ellie was, I had managed it unscathed, and, assumedly, unseen.

I crept in. Ellie was still asleep, though thankfully her tremors seemed less frequent. I made my way out back to where Shimmer was, who was peacefully chewing on some of the lawn grass with no complaints. Realising I needed to heat up the soup as soon as possible for Ellie, I decided to pull away at some of the wooden panelling behind the front desk, and use my lighter to start a fire. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would have to do. I cut open the lid of the can and stuck it on the fire to heat up nicely. I kept the fire at a low flame so a strong smoke signal wouldn't give us away, and stomped it out before grabbing the hot metal using the blankets as oven gloves. I went back inside, sitting cross legged on the shop floor and setting out the soup and the water. I tucked the blankets around Ellie, and she conveniently stirred.

"Hey, you- what the fuck?" she interrupted herself, sitting straight up as she took a thumb to my cheek and checked out the gash on it.

"Calm down, it's barely noticeable. And slow your roll, by the way," I said, slowly getting her to lie back down as I checked her forehead, "you're barely better than before."

"Bullshit. I'm miles better, let me see your head."

She examined it with such gentleness and intimacy, that I could not help but awkwardly pull away, insisting everything was fine so I could avoid staring into her eyes again that, at times, felt endless. She slowly sat up again, and looked at the supplies I had gotten.

"Oh, fuck, Amelia. You went on a run without me. Did you get bit? Were you seen?"

"Relax. We're the golden girls of the universe, remember? It doesn't matter if I get bit, I can't get infected. And no, I wasn't seen, as far as I'm aware."

"It does matter," Ellie said, looking away sternly. "An injury is still an injury."

I felt a wave of fondness wash over me, and handled the slightly cooler, but still hot, soup can, and grinned at her.

"Look...what...I...got! This can cure any illness, I promise," I said, presenting the chicken noodle soup with pride.

She shuffled a little, inhaling the wonderful smell of the soup, and broke from her sulking, turning to face me, and patting the little blanketed heap she was in. I crawled over to sit with her, and she asked,

"Whoever, or whatever made that happen to you..." she started. "Did you at least beat them like a drum?"

I chuckled, feeling a smug surge of confidence as I retold what happened.

"...No way."

"Way!"

"A bloater? But they're so rare!"

"Yup! And I took it down, solo style! Unless you count Bertha...but that was all me again."

"Fucking Bertha, dude!"