The First Of Us | TLOU Prequel

Chapter Two

2013

fall

You were starving. Each stride make the soles of your feet ache. The battery in your truck had given up miles back; if you had to guess, probably 6, maybe 7. Keep going. Ears were on alert, your mind in a state of acute awareness. It always was, that was just the basic state of living, you couldn't remember when you were last able to relax, even in your sleep. Feet came to a halt, fingers raised the tattered map closer, it was so hard to read, tape binding it together, holding onto the last soft, frayed edges that existed; an appropriate parallel to yourself. Eyes squinted against the setting sun at the buildings around you. Street signs were almost impossible to read now, beautiful greenery beginning covering them entirely, such a contrast to the horrors they hid within. How did you let your energy levels sink so low? It was reckless, it wasn't like you. This had taken longer than expected now you were travelling solo, at every turn something lurking, waiting for you. That's how you'd run out of rations, and water; your lips puckered and peeling from the dehydration. Cold hands stuffed the map back into your jacket pocket, satisfied you were still going in the right direction.

The orange hues grew brighter as you trekked forwards, increasing your speed, you had to get there before sundown, the walled city, cutely named the Vatican. All Quarantine Zones were walled, but Boston QZ still stood strong, or so you were led to believe, a microstate of its own, unbothered yet by starvation, rogue factions, and uprisings. One droplet hit your face, then another, then another. Rainfall. You picked up the pace even more; it got heavier in return, cracks of thunder following flashes of lightening in the distance. A grace from the heavens to aid closing the final mile; maybe the Vatican was appropriate naming after all.

Your feet began to feel sodden, squelching with each step as you walked around craters the size of houses, remnants of bombings. This had to be the buffer zone. C'mon, surely not much further now, right? And then there it was, looming ahead in all it's glory. Gate 3. The wall was huge, larger than you'd seen before, and there were searchlights at the top, scanning through the rain. You swung your rifle round to your side, pulling the tattered straps on your backpack to tighten it up, spare your screaming back for the last few yards. Then it whizzed past you, a bullet so fast it caused deafness in your ear for a moment, and it hit something. It hit something that screamed in response. You turned round very, very slowly. Another crack of thunder. Squinting in the low light of the dusk your eyes caught glimpse of what the bullet had hit, a large fungal growth protruding out from it's split skull. If they weren't so fucking terrifying maybe in another universe it would be considered art, but in this one, it would kill you, maul you to death with it's bare hands. A clicker.

Click, click, click. It resumed its search for you again. With no eyes left, they had formed a sort of primitive echolocation to reveal their prey. Your heart began to hammer, another crack of thunder. If you pulled out the rifle, the guards would shoot you. If you ran towards the wall, they would shoot you. So you simply stood up, raised your arms in the air quietly and on the next crack of thunder, you walked forwards. The spotlight shone in your eyes almost immediately, tracking your every movement. Concentrate. You shifted your body to the side a little to get the glare out of your eyes so you could focus on the clicker once more. And that's when you spotted another one, crawling it's way out of a building next to you. One bullet would attract every single create in a mile radius.

Crack of thunder, walk, they followed. Crack of thunder, walk, they followed. And repeat.

Your heart pounded in your ears, the need to break out into a sprint grew and grew until it was overwhelming and uncontrollable, and you did. The spotlight stayed on you as bullets ripped past, some hitting, some missing. You could hear the clicking, the gutteral screams as those things remained hot on your heels. What if you tripped right now? What if you fell? They would have you, they would—