Left Forsaken: A The Last Of Us Story

A Day's Time

It's been three years since the outbreak, and that's how long the food lasted. Three years. Now they were extremely rationed, and there was a new currency. No more silver and gold, dollars and coins. Ration cards, weapons, and food moved the world now. In the quarantine, we had duties to fulfill to get ration cards.

Many soldiers have died and they were looking for recruits. "You would make a great soldier." I stared at the flyer nailed to a post. The screeches from my neighbor echoed through my mind, and I felt his weight on me as if he had tackled me again. Then the image of the limping man, his screams mixing with my neighbor's growls. My chest tightened, I grabbed the pen and wrote my name. I'll be able to do for these people what I couldn't do for them.

. . .

"Edgar, hey!" Marian greeted after opening the door."Hello, little Lily!"

"Marian, today I was called for training, and I was wondering if you could take care of Lillian for me in the meantime."

"Oh, of course." She smiled. "I am glad you joined the recruits."

"Was sort of getting tired of being a janitor." I joked.

She chuckled, "Then best of luck, hope you don't have to clean up after the others."

I kissed my daughter's cheek, "Behave. I'll be back soon and I don't want Marian telling me you were bothering her." With that she ran in. "Goodbye."

. . .

"A soldier's duty has never been easy, but now - specially now -being a soldier is a difficult task. We are at war against something that is yet to be known. Our priority is to protect the zone." The Sargeant yelled as he walked among the lines of recruits. We stood stiff and steady, moving only our eyes. "I am going to be raw with you - every one of you. Training's going to be hard, you won't be able to bare it at a time. It's understandable, but this training it is perfectly designed to prepare you for what's out there, and there may be worse things. I need people with sharp senses, strength, and speed. Outside those gates, a milisecond can be too late. Outside those gates, your instincts are your best ally. If you can't handle the training, you won't last a day, not even in the outskirts." 

I took a deep breath, the world I saw beyond the window, the buildings that fell apart with every passing day. Soon they will no longer be stretched through out the city to me, but to the sky.

. . .

81, 82, 83...

My arms were sore, my biceps burned, my shoulders tense. It was my third week training, and during a drill, my team couldn't make the time. We are now punished with a hundred push ups.

88, 89, 90...

Most of the recruits from the first week had flunked out, punishments were strict and difficult. Not to mention waking up bright and early like the Sargeant had said, "Show up before the sun does." It was a huge sacrifice, the training of the day would leave us defeated, the sleep we had didn't suffice.

95, 96, 97...

My arms wouldn't budge, I stood there, palms pressed against the dirt, beads of sweat dripping from my forehead.

"Move it, Kari!" Officer Bosch barked at me. "I want to see those elbows bend, you fucking pansie!"

98, 99, 100. I let my body slump on the ground, panting, exhausted. I saw the boots of Officer Bosch step into view, just inches from my face. "You've lost your grace, Kari. Ten more."

I gasped for air, trying to protest, but I was worn out, and couldn't even speak. The sun was coming down and it was past the time to get back home. The training was over hours ago, I should be already in front of Marian's door.

"What're are you waiting for, Kari?" He yelled. "Ten more. Or you want another hundred tomorrow?" That didn't sound so bad of a deal, but then again he will make me do ten tomorrow again. I pressed my palms on the ground, lifting my weight, then down.

. . .

"The head is the weakest point, infected or not infected. We are short on ammunition so, each one of these pistols contain one shot. Make each fucking shot count." Officer Bosch said.

I grabbed the 9mm pistol placed on the table. I felt strange, this wasn't a BB gun, nor it was a paintball gun. I was hoping it was the same basic concept. Making sure to make up for the kick of the gun. I aimed lower than the head, at the chin of the target.

"Fire." Signaled Bosch, and we all pressed the trigger, but no shot was heard. The officer chuckled. "You goddamn dumbasses, they weren't loaded. They didn't even have one shot. Always check your guns' ammunition. You all had a very long chance to not only aim, but to check your clip." He gestured to his assistants and they handed each one of us a clip. "Load your gun and fire."

The bullet had gone close enough to the target but, still too far - missing contact. Officer Bosch looked at each one of the targets closely. "You all are goddamn terrible shots. Again."