The Last of Us: Final Resort

Chapter 21 - Forged in Struggle

WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of intense violence, including physical confrontation, injury, and death. Reader discretion is advised for depictions of graphic violence and its aftermath.

Denver, June
2042

Ellie blinked groggily, her head throbbing as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. She quickly realised she was tied up, her hands bound tightly behind her back. Beside her, Abby started to stir, gradually coming back to her senses. "Abby, wake up," Ellie whispered urgently, nudging her with her shoulder. Abby groaned, slowly opening her eyes. "What... what's going on?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "We've been captured," Ellie replied grimly, her heart sinking as the memories of the attack flooded back. As they listened, they heard the voices of their captors, cursing under their breath as they discussed their plans. "Duncan's dead in Minnesota... we gotta avenge him," one of the voices muttered angrily. Ellie's eyes widened in realisation. These attackers were Moccasin, but their attire marked them as members of a distinct faction from the ones they had encountered previously. "Shit," Abby whispered, her eyes wide with fear. Ellie's thoughts raced, her mind consumed with worry about the rest of their group. "Where the hell are Cat and Lev? Especially Joyce," she pondered, a knot of anxiety twisting in her gut. Ellie couldn't get the image of Joyce being attacked and knocked unconscious out of her head. It haunted her every thought, filling her with a sense of dread and urgency. She prayed with all her heart that Joyce was okay, silently pleading for her safety as she tried to push back the rising tide of fear and uncertainty.
Suddenly, a man named Graham appeared, his voice cutting through the tension. "Constance, they're awake. What should we do with them?" he asked over a radio. A voice crackled over the radio, identifying itself as Constance, the co-leader of Moccasin. "Just keep an eye on them for now. I'm busy with my own matters," she replied abruptly. Ellie exchanged a worried glance with Abby, realizing they were in serious trouble.

At the same time, Joyce gradually blinked her eyes open, sensing the fog of sleep lifting as she became aware that she was tied up in a dimly lit room. Her heart raced as she looked around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Then, her eyes fell on a familiar face standing before her - Martha, a member of the opposing faction. "Well, well, look who's awake. How does it feel, you filthy half-blood, knowing that you've been injected with snake venom? I bet you're expecting a painful death now", Martha taunted, her voice dripping with malice. Joyce's lips curved into a smirk, surprising Martha with her lack of reaction to the offensive name. "Oh, dear. Are you sure that venom can kill me so easily? I'm tougher than I look," she retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.
As minutes went by, Martha's confidence started to falter, giving way to bewilderment and apprehension.  She roughly grabbed Joyce's jaw, searching for answers, "Why the hell aren't you dead yet? Why aren't you in agony?" she snapped, her voice laced with fear. Without warning, Joyce seized the opportunity, sinking her teeth into Martha's throat with ruthless precision. Martha stumbled back, clutching her bleeding neck in shock and pain. With a swift motion, Joyce freed herself from the ropes, then grabbed Martha by the throat, squeezing tightly and inflicting pain in retaliation. "Where are the others?" she asked, her voice cold and commanding. Martha, now desperate to save her own life, spilled everything she knew about the captives whereabouts in the high-rise building. But Joyce didn't hesitate, promptly breaking Martha's neck before grabbing her katana, dagger, and snipper rifle, determined to locate and rescue her comrades.
While Joyce made her way through the building, she heard Graham's voice coming through the radio. Martha's inability to eliminate her had clearly captured his interest."Did you eliminate that filthy half-blood, Martha?" he snarled, his words laced with disgust. Joyce muttered a curse under her breath, sick of hearing the offensive name. "Seriously, Graham? Snake venom? That's the best you've got?" she crackled over the radio with a sharp edge of sarcasm. "But sure, I'm heading your way. Hope you've got a better plan, motherfucker".