desolation - an ellie williams fanfic

3 - there is no light

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 3 - there is no light ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

april 2034 - 4 months after fleeing the cannibals  - Midway, Utah

I recognized the severity of my illness from the way my body throbbed with pain. Alternating waves of heat and cold wracked me with tremors. Soon, I would have to venture out, searching for antibiotics and remedies for the side effects, perhaps stopping at a gas station or pharmacy along the route to Salt Lake City, where the rumored Firefly base awaited.

I had taken refuge in a modest house nestled within a bustling neighborhood. My goal was inconspicuousness; the larger the neighborhood, the safer I felt. Alongside this new sanctuary, I kept the horse I had liberated from the cannibals, aware she must have had a name before I found her, though uncertain what it was. So, I decided on 'Luna,' a tribute to the full moon we escaped under that night. Luna stayed in the garage of the house—a makeshift stable. Over the months, I grew deeply attached to her. Developing such connections was something I had tried to avoid, but prolonged solitude made it inevitable.

Staying in a big neighborhood also meant constant vigilance during every waking hour of my stay. Such populous areas were almost certainly teeming with Infected. Prior to settling in, I meticulously cleared the three neighboring houses on each side of my temporary sanctuary.

As the illness set in, a cold sweat covered my body. I hadn't been able to keep down what little food I scavenged from the abandoned houses. The abundance of houses suggested there should have been more provisions for survival, confirming FEDRA had long cleared this neighborhood of anything of use.

Thoughts of FEDRA sparked memories of the Fireflies, urging me to prepare for the road ahead. Marlene's urgent plea resonated deeply; she didn't just want me to reach the base in Utah, she needed it. She had entrusted me with a staggering responsibility: I was supposedly 'the world's last hope,' It felt surreal, almost like a cruel joke. I, Natalie Carter, surviving against all odds—nearly torn apart by Infected, nearly butchered and eaten by my own kind, nearly beaten to death—was now considered the last hope.

I couldn't shake the thought that a couple more soldiers beside me might have hastened our journey to Salt Lake City, perhaps bringing me to the Fireflies much sooner. The two men she had sent with me on this expedition had died, long before my unfortunate resort stay in Colorado.

We had been taking shelter in an abandoned Motel 6, when we were ambushed by Stalkers.  One was bitten, and the other inadvertently inhaled spores while trying to save his companion, shooting the attacking Stalker and alerting a nearby Bloater in the process. Together, we managed to bring down the Bloater, but not without cost. I watched helplessly as the toxins from its corpse filled the air, and he instinctively took a deep breath, drawing the lethal spores into his lungs.

"No.. wait, no! I didn't know I-" The sound of his words had been cut off by coughing and choking, spluttering over his words.

"Kill—" He heaved, grasping his chest and gagging on the air that flowed into his lungs. "Me," he pleaded, reaching out towards me, his eyes desperate for relief. And so, I granted it.

That night marked my second encounter with spores, surviving without infection once more. The sensation was similar to inhaling dust in an old antique shop—thick, musky, a faint tickle in my throat, nothing more. The only thing I hadn't encountered yet was a bite from the infected. I assumed that they were one in the same, as far as infection went. My journey alone started that day the two soldiers died, only 4 weeks before my encounter with David.