chapter twenty-nine: pray for the souls you have taken and beg for mercy
january 2024── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
(please read disclaimer here)
Alejandra's skin burned from the fire.
She sat across from Mateo, the two not speaking a word to each other since he chased after her. "You didn't have to be Prince Charming, you have a kid at home." He instead shrugged his shoulders to respond and his lips tugged into a frown. "You don't have a coat or a gun. No backpack... No food." Mateo sighed while leaning forward and holding his hands in front of the fire to feel the warmth.
"You seem like it's my first time out here with no protection." His voice was unusually deep, maybe from the cold temperature that caused everything to turn numb or trying to not seem nervous. "Have you been out there, though? Where there's other people. Other threats than just animals." From Mateo's silent response, Alejandra laughed and slowly shook her head. She pulled the gun from the back of her jeans and leaned forward, "take it."
"No."
"Mateo, take it." He grabbed it with a huff and watched her sink back down on the frozen ground. "What are you gonna use?" He asked and watched as she glanced around her, hands fiddling in her pocket while she pulled out a pen and hummed. "A pen, really?" He asked, "I've done worse with limited supplies, you shouldn't underestimate what I can do."
"You cut out a throat of a man about ten times bigger than you, I'm not underestimating you. I'm scared of you." He laughed, easing the tension that was soon shared. They fell into silence again while Alejandra furrowed her eyebrows and picked at her nails, "there is nothing more dangerous out there than men. Forget about animals, the infected- those cost nothing. It's the people, the survivors, the Raiders... They are terrifying and will do anything to skin you alive-"
Mateo shuttered, not realizing that he did while Alejandra abruptly stopped once noticing it. "Why are you telling me this?" Mateo sighed while he tucked the gun behind his jeans once making sure the safety was turned on. "Why am I telling you this?" Alejandra asked while her head leaned forward and she had one of those smiles where you're not sure if she's happy or mad. "Yeah? To scare me, or- or..." He was scared. "I'm telling you this so you don't try and make friends. You see someone you don't know, you shoot them." Mateo's eyes widened quickly and he chuckled out a short laugh, "shoot them? They did nothing-"
"They existed. That's what they did. They are breathing the same air as you. You don't shoot them and you go to walk away, guaranteed they're going to shoot you." Mateo rubbed his hand over his beard and sighed loudly. "I know people don't tell the truth and I'm not worried about that- you say you've had an easy life, I'll believe you." Mateo rose his eyebrows again, "I've been grateful, I'm not gonna lie about that." He answered and folded his hands together, "I have not." Alejandra told him and his eyes found hers again. She looked to the fire and sighed, "the only people I have left, are out there." Mateo held his hand loose over his mouth while releasing a deep breath. "These are the people that I would die for. I will not die for you, Mateo." He nodded his head once and dropped his hands to his lap.
"You have to understand that. If it is you or them..." He held his hands up, "it's them, I understand. I'm not fighting against you." He told her and Alejandra felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. "If something happens out there and you're in a situation where you're failing... think of Dina. She's the one you're trying to get back to, so make sure you get back to her." Alejandra saw the slight difference in his features and she released a deep sigh. "I am praying that we get in and out and we're back in Jackson but that's never how any of this goes. Never. Not once has it been easy." Mateo listened to her carefully, "I started fighting this against this world twenty years ago and I have yet to stop, you have to understand that."
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averno, tlou
FanfictionShe sat watching him intently, trying to find any change in his face. It is hard to see anyone who has become like your own body to you. - Willa Cather, from "Neighbour Rosicky," Collected Stories (Vintage, 1992)