𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬

29. No Rest for the Wicked.

T W E N T Y - N I N E
No Rest for the Wicked.

I don't stop for a second, my feet slam against the ground, propelling me through the forest and down the street, racing across the hallway before my feet hit the stairs to the basement. I've gotten myself into a shitty situation. How the fuck I'm getting out, that I don't know.

"You get any food?" Ellie's voice is croaky with emotional exhaustion. It's wearing away her toughness, exposing the soft, kind girl who wants closeness.

I shake my head, handing over the wrapped vials to her. "Just these," I huff, completely out of breath. "They're antibiotics to stop the infection."

She looks confused, "How?"

"Just– doesn't matter. Give it to him, he needs it." My lungs rise and fall quickly, my mind comprehending the shit storm I've found myself in. I don't know when they're coming back, but they are. I can't stop myself pacing, almost wearing a hole through the concrete floors as Ellie administers the antibiotics. "We need– we can't... just be ready to go. Make sure everything's packed. The second Joel is back on his feet mostly we head out, we– we go far, so fucking far from here." I gesture away from us, driving home the point that where I got the medicine does matter.

Ellie looks at me with her big eyes that pluck at my heartstrings. She looks so young, so worried. "What did you do, Bobbie?"

I shake my head, tugging my beanie off and putting it down. "Nothing. I–I shot a deer, was gonna bring it back to cook up, but people were already taking it. We needed it so I... we struck a deal. They could have half the deer in exchange for medicine." My face itches no matter how much I scratch at it. "It was a good deal, Joel needs the medicine. But it went wrong, the guy– David is some crazy ass cult guy. And the Raiders that hurt Joel—the ones I killed, those people were from David's group."

Joel groans, seemingly judging me from his unconscious state. He would be so pissed.

"What the fuck, Bobbie!" Ellie shouts, emotion clouding her words. "You didn't even get the deer."

"He knows, Ellie! When we sat down he asked about the fucking blood on me, asked if it was mine, I was all cagey and shit. Then he asked about how we were faring in winter, he said they were lucky. They have no crops, the game's awful around here but they had two people murdered. The fucker was smiling! He knew I killed them. And he knew Joel got hurt– he thinks you're hurt too, that's why I was out on my own. Fuck!"

Ellie sinks back on her heels. "What were you thinking," she whispers, exasperated. "You saw a guy you thought was crazy and you made a deal with him? How the fuck did you even expect to carry a whole-ass deer back?"

There was nothing to say, nothing I could come up with to explain myself. I'd expected pushback, frustrated pushback, but this was more exhausted disappointment. "I'll fix it. I will. Just be ready to leave, I may have to cause a diversion to buy you guys some time. Then‐ then I'll double back and catch up." The plan is flimsy at best, more of a last-ditch effort to sacrifice the many to save the few. If David really has as many people as he made it seem, he will probably be sending the best of the bunch out to find us. Because they aren't leaving me here scott-free, they just aren't.

I just convince them Joel and Ellie died, pull enough shit they need lots of help taking me, taking resources from the search efforts so they can find a window to get the hell out.

"You should sleep, you haven't slept in days, Bobbie. You've barely sat down," Ellie comments.

My head shakes as I lean against the wall, my fingers anxiously drumming against the cold concrete. The unpleasant temperature keeping me awake. "I'm fine, I'll rest once we're out of this mess. It's my mess, I fucked up. I should've seen them coming, should've gotten away before they reached us, should've– it should be me, not Joel. He's laying there fucking dying–"