The Last of Us

This roleplay may contain graphic scenes, blood, language, and/or adult themes.
You have been warned.

---

My name is Emily.

I am twenty three years old.

I am 5'8" with brown eyes and hair.

People call me Benny.

I'm twenty-eight years old.

I'm six and a half feet tall, with sandy hair and dark blue eyes.

---

Benny hadn’t gone out in a few days. For others it would mean he hadn’t eaten in a few days too, and would at least be beginning to get desperate. Benny, though, had what most couldn’t afford to store away---cans and packets of rations, hidden in a small crawlspace under the floor of his apartment room. Here he lived alone, and was glad for that, but over the past few days slips of paper had been slid under the door, going ignored for just as long. Today, though, it looked like it would rain, and the roll of thunder above the building seemed to work to confirm that. He couldn’t just keep ignoring his jobs. From his seat on a broken-down couch he looked over to the door, and the litter of papers in front of it, and finally encouraged himself to stand. Favoring the left leg, Benny made his way to the door and scooped up the papers, studying them. None were written formally---they couldn’t be since most technology was in the possession and use of the government---but each was short and quickly jotted down.

Job today---5th Street

Ben, where are you? Andrew’s looking for you.

It’s been two days, where are you?

Get your ass to the radio!

Four days. Contact me or I’m dropping you.

The last one was most recent. Its graphite was smudged and the paper crumpled. Tossing the accumulated letters onto a nearby table as he passed, Benny half-limped into the kitchen, then through to a small bedroom that doubled as a communication room. A small radio system was set up here, on a desk pushed up against the wall across from the twin bed. The radio he sat in front of, putting a headset on and switching the radio on, getting static for a moment while he picked up the mic and tested it. “Andrew, you there? Benny coming through.”

There were a series of pops and crackles, static for a moment, then it stopped, and a gruff voice answered: “About damn time you got through, Ben. Where’ve you been? What were you doing? No one’s seen you in days!”

Benny shook his head, absentmindedly rubbing his knee. “I’ve been holed up here. But if I had to guess I’d say you’ve been able to get along without me just fine.”

“That’s what you think. You gotta shipment to deliver the next town over.”

“Aw, God, Andy, you can’t be serious...” Benny pinched the bridge of his nose, a force of habit when he was bothered. “You don’t have anyone else?”

“We ain’t got no one else. They all earned their pay this week, it’s your turn. Hah! And it ain’t like anyone’s risking their neck out there.”

Benny sighed, but nodded to himself. “Sure, sure. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

“No more than three. If you’re late I’m dropping your ass.”

Benny switched the radio off, cutting the static that came through in their shared silence. He didn’t get up at once, instead staring at the cracked, peeling wall and still rubbing his leg. A year before this started, six years ago entirely, he’d been shot. The small-caliber bullet had ripped into his knee and shattered, and left shards between the bone and embedded in the cartilage. But they couldn’t be retrieved without causing more damage that would have left the leg useless in holding him up at all. But that was what a detective had to do. It was a risk that came with the badge.

Standing and wincing only slightly, Benny went under his bed and grabbed his backpack. It was an old, beat-up thing, and full of whatever he might need for several days outside the wall. He wasn’t sure what he was transporting, he just wanted to get it done in less than five days and with minimal detection by human or infected as possible.

Emily sighed and raised her head up off of her arms to look out the window. Dark clouds were rolling in and in the distance she could hear the sound of thunder. Pushing sticky bangs off of her forehead she looked down at the journal she had fallen asleep on:

August 10th, 2023

Picking up her pen she scratched down the word Rain and slammed the cover shut before shoving it into a small messenger bag which she slung over her shoulder. She wasn't in the mood for writing today. Striding purposefully for the door, Emily stopped only long enough to shove her feet into a pair of worn out leather boots. She needed some air.

Despite the imminent storm, Emily left her flat and strode down the hallway towards the stairs. Sounds of life could be heard behind each door she passed. The old lady in C3 was talking to herself again. Sometimes Emily would visit her. She could sit and talk with her for hours and the elderly woman still wouldn't remember what she said. She could hardly remember her own name...

As she passed the door to C2, a boy, maybe 5 years old ran out, nearly colliding with her. Cooly dodging to the side, she waited his shadow to pass as well. His sister was never far from his side. The rhythmic thumping in C1 told her that the couple inside were at it again. She was surprised that their bed was still standing.

Shaking her head, Emily glided down the stairs and out the door. The streets were mostly empty apart from those waiting in the rations line. Rations had been scarce as of late and she didn't waste her time getting in line with the others. She nodded a greeting to a few people she recognized in line but today she didn't stick around to talk but instead made her way towards the city's center.

Benny exited the building and stepped down to the sidewalk. Stretching his right leg, he grimaced at the way it popped a little. Rearranging the bag on his shoulder, he started off, down the road. The only vehicles that frequented the cracked asphalt were the large black and green ones that belonged to the government. They bussed in soldiers in the morning and in the evening for their shifts, and every time he looked at the police that often stood alongside them, Benny couldn’t help but wonder how he’d become what he was now. Then, he could have been what they were. He could be wearing a uniform like that, leave this place for a more secure location, be assured to some type of future... But then he would be just like them, corrupt and angry at everything. He’d hold his gun as if it were a lifeline and growl at anyone that dared get too close to him. He’d be hurting, not helping. Nothing was worth that change.

Looking away from the pairs and singles that wandered the rooftops and flanked doorways, stood against walls and lingered in certain alleyways, Benny kept his head down and stared at the ground as it began to sprinkle a little here and there, dampen the helmets of the officers and trickle through his long hair. Every step he took reminded him that even if he was still a detective, part of the department, his knee wouldn’t allow him to keep his position. No, he would have been kicked to the curb just as quickly as anyone else, stripped of his credentials, his badge, his gun, his title.

Arriving at the checkpoint that separated the east side from the north side, Benny unpocketed his I.D. for the guard, who took and studied it and rested his automatic weapon against his side. “Got business?” He asked curtly.

“Just off to visit a friend.” Benny said hoarsely.

The man nodded, stepping away. He and a total of eleven others guarded a very large, thickly barred fence run through with electricity and topped with barbed wire. The gate was released with a loud buzzing, and Benny nodded as he accepted his I.D. and pushed on, into the north side. It was much more of a slum than the east side, with makeshift shelters and little pit stops here and there. Voices here were much more in number, and Benny did his best to shut them out as he walked. People pushed past him, sometimes snagging on his backpack intentionally, though as he pulled away with a snarl, they shrunk back onto their mats or sleeping bags, or went on their way. He wormed his way through a series of old vehicles that had long ago become homes for the homeless. Why Andrew had to make his base here was beyond Benny’s comprehension.

Emily felt the first drops of rain on her face and hair. Once upon a time she had loved rainstorms. Watching them through the windows of her dorm room or her parents living room had always brought a smile to her face. She used to love those days before the outbreak when being caught in the rain meant you could dry off with a fluffy clean towel and change into a warm snugly pair of PJs when you got home. Not now though. Getting wet meant wearing the same damp, dirty clothing until it dried and chaffing in all the uncomfortable places.

Today however, this didn't bother Emily. She was in one of her moods. Swerving down a side street to avoid a couple of soldiers, she continued towards her destination. Though she wasn't doing anything wrong, she preferred to avoid the militants who "protected" their city. That lot took the best of everything: the best foodstuffs before it ever reached the ration kitchen's shelves, the cleanest clothing, and whatever else they could find. Though she hardly agreed with what they did, Emily wasn't about to rush out and join the Fireflies. Their rebellion was futile, in this city at least.

Once upon a time she might have had the energy to combat such injustice but the past five years of her life had left her jaded. She had done her best to come to terms with the past but in the end gave up and pushed it all under the rug. Life had become a sort of game to her. How long could she go before remembering? Sometimes it could last days, weeks even. The worst days were those when she couldn't forget at all. As time went on, Emily found it became more and more easy to ignore the atrocities of the world they currently lived in. It wasn't that she didn't care, just that she lacked the willpower to face the hard questions head on anymore.

He made it to the inconspicuous warehouse with time to spare, and pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, and inside, the sound echoed loudly, bouncing off the bare, metal walls and the cracked concrete floor. Andrew wasn't stupid enough to set up shop where anyone could just walk right in---and he wasn't the easiest to get to when it came to that. Closing the door behind him, Benny rearranged the bag on his shoulder and brushed the damp hair from his face, going around the broken-down machines of five years ago that at once served their purpose each day. Now rust had claimed them, dust and corrosion, some vines that had found their way up through the cracks in the floor. Going around to a staircase, he went down the chipped steps and through an underground tunnel. It seemed to end in a cave-in, though to the left was a heavy bookshelf. Pulling it away from the wall with a grunt, Benny managed to squeeze through and into another room, which was an offshoot from the main 'department' as Andrew liked to refer to it as. Through this room, resembling a sitting area and small kitchen, he made his way through another hall, turned right, and to a heavy set of double doors. Pausing outside them, he lifted his I.D. and pressed it against the very small window and knocked three times with his free hand.

Silence reigned for only a moment longer, then a series of footfalls met his ears and a few muttered words. Then the door swung open and Benny put away his papers, met with Andrew's rough, square face. "C'mon." He motioned for the younger man to enter, and as he did, Benny stepped away from the door to allow a guard to close it. "Been dodging work, Ben." Andrew huffed as he sat on a metal desk. "Not good for you I'd say."

"I was just... in a rough patch." Benny muttered.

"Look 'round you, Ben. The whole friggin' world's in a rough patch. You gotta suck it up and get your lazy ass here when we come-a-callin'. That or you're on your own, how 'bout that?"

Benny shook his head hard. "Okay, okay. Just... What do you need?"

"Need you to take a shipment of clothes to the next town over."

"Who's coming with me?"

"No one."

"Andrew---!"

"Boy! You dodged work all week so far, ain't no one else that'll be willin' to go twice! The guys you'd have covered a few days ago went it alone and they're not gonna go helpin' you now. Not 'till next week. Shipment's out back in the wheeler."

Not the wheeler. It was basically a glorified wheelbarrow, covered and water-tight to save perishable items from coming to harm. Andrew huffed, like a child that didn't want to help do the dishes, and stalked around the desk to the door at the back of the room. This would be a fun few days...

Emily kicked a chunk of rubble out of her path and rounded the next corner to continue onwards towards her intended destination. Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed in the distance. If it wasn't summer she would have the luxury of walking around in the rain like a hothead. A simple cold could kill a healthy man just as easily as anything else these days. Medicine was scarce and the winter months were brutal. Most people didn't have heavy clothes to cut the cold and it was dangerous to light fires in the buildings. She had already seen the effects of one unattended fire. A whole block had been wiped out by the blaze before the fire burned itself out. The infected weren't the only thing one needed to worry about these days...

Pulling plastered strands of wet hair out of her eyes, Emily spotted her destination up ahead. Striding past the gate, Emily entered the public park. It wasn't the closest one to her apartment building but it was the most well-tended. That wasn't to say that anyone had pulled the weeds, or that the flowerbeds contained a single bud, it was the least trashed and still had a few remaining benches. The wooden ones had long since rotted away but a handful of stone ones remained. Ellie seated herself on the nearest one and took out her journal. Opening the cover, she resisted the urge to look at the photos glued to the last few pages and instead opened it to the page that currently read:

August 10th, 2023

Rain.

She took a moment to look around her before choosing a building in the distance. Although mostly collapsed, it was one of her favorites. On some of her better days she would sit in the park and sketch the building the way her imagination told her it used to look. Other days she chose to pick apart its construction and imagine redesigns for its framework. Today however, she simply drew it as the half fallen pile of rubble it was. The drops of water that fell on the paper didn't bother her in the least. She loved the noise that the crinkled pages made when they dried. Even if she didn't feel like writing, she couldn't leave today's page blank.

Benny went around to a room that had been dug out not long after Andrew made this place his main export location. The wheeler, made of cloth-covered wood, sat near a ramp that had been dug just outside the wall, strategically hidden in brush. "So, Andy, the town nearby... I hear it's an outpost for some Fireflies."

"Heard right." Andrew had followed along, and was leaning against the wall. "They're still'a goin' strong in a few places, y'know."

"I know. But..." Benny shook his head. "I guess it's hard to believe in much of what they're doing."

"You mean what we're doin'?"

Benny nodded quickly. "Sure, what we're doing." He put his backpack on both shoulders and checked the contents of the wheeler. All the clothes and fabrics were there, including some in plastic bags. "Them's yours." Andrew said at Benny's conflicted expression. "Don't go taking any others, got a full inventory on the rest."

Benny rolled his eyes and nodded again. "Fine. I'll head off now."

"Take care'a that leg, got it?" Andrew sounded as though he were issuing a threat. "Just 'cause you're a gimp don't mean you ain't the best guy I got."

"Aww, quit flattering me, sweetie." Benny sneered, getting between the handles of the wheeler and lifting it. The items weren't heavy, and they'd be easy to drag along behind him. Unless he were attacked, then he would have to drop it quick or at least defend it from thieves or soldiers. Infected weren't exactly interested in some clothes they wouldn't even be able to get to. Andrew motioned to a man nearby, who used a thick chain beside the shoddily-installed garage door over the exit, raising it with an ear-splitting screeching. Benny gritted his teeth at the sound, but when it was up, he ducked underneath and started up the steep, water-soaked ramp. It was so humid already... These few days would probably stretch to decades in his mind. Lifting the wheeler off the ramp as the door closed behind him, Benny grabbed a few slabs of stone and old wood and pushed them aside, revealing the hole in the wall. He forced the wheeler through first, then himself, grabbing the board and sliding it as far as he could across the other side.

He pressed through the brush with little effort, though it caught a little at his hair and teased. Once he was on a path that was often walked by evening-shift officers, Benny annoyedly struggled out of his soaking shirt and slapped it onto the ground with a huff. It wasn't odd to see random articles of clothes littered in the strangest places, and it would be hidden in the tall grass. Grabbing the handles, he started off.

Annoyed, Emily swatted at a mosquito in her line of vision. In the summer, the mosquitoes were the worst. Pools of dirty water covered the city providing the perfect breeding ground for the pesky insects. Despite the heat, she wore a long sleeve shirt explicitly for the purpose of preventing as many insect bites as possible. That still didn't stop them from landing on her hands and face, seeking any purchase they could find for a meal.

Swatting at another that had landed on her neck, Emily did her best to quickly finish her drawing. Though not completely satisfied with the end result, she snapped the book shut as soon as the last line was in place. Normally the park was her place of refuge but today it didn't provide the relief she was looking for. Stowing her journal back in her bag, she stood and made her way back to the gate, silently debating what to do next.

One of the age-old problems of her existence in the city was the question of what to do. There were only so many places to visit, so many unrefined books to read. There were only so many distractions to keep her from thinking of the past, of the unwanted ghosts that followed her everywhere she went. Shoving her hands in her pocket to protect them from the mosquitoes, Emily forced herself to move else she make an easy target for hungry blood-sucking insects.

The bugs... It was impossible to breathe in unless one were wearing a gas mask to not have a small mosquito or beetle fly into one's mouth or nose! It was why Benny carried bug spray, a can that seemed to never expire, and it did the job in cutting through water or sweat to protect him from the bothers flitting about. It was so hard to find bug spray---most was owned by the government for their soldiers and police forces, feeling them to be more important than the workers below them. He, though, and a few here and there, still had a few cans at their disposal, though Benny used his very sparingly. With so many venomous creatures with their needle-like noses, coupled with the fact that he had abandoned his shirt and was drenched in water, it wouldn't end well for him and he'd spend at least a week itching and nearing the brink of insanity.

And that was a brink he didn't want to visit again. When all this started, he had lost his best friend, his partner, his lover. He had lost it all just a week later. And insanity wanted to take hold then, because he'd been alone... Still he wasn't sure what, specifically, had brought him back down. Whether it was Andrew, the Fireflies, or his stubbornness that refused to give in to such an easy, simple thing. He never liked to give in without a fight. A Hell of a fight. A fight that would have to rip his heart out before he'd stop struggling.

Benny glared at the area in front of him and growled. It was almost noon if he was right---and regarding time, he usually was. He'd have a long walk in front of him already. Stepping off the path, Benny left it for what used to be a road. He was far enough away from the north tower that they wouldn't catch sight of him, and the quickly-growing grass that had started taking back the roads would easily obscure him when he was far enough away. And while the grass was often a blessing, it was an equal curse. It hid threats, such as the infected, and even while the clickers clicked, it was often hard to tell from which direction, specifically, they sounded from. It was only normal for Benny to twitch at the slightest of provocations, and the obscuring sound of rain didn't help, though it would confuse any stray clickers, who relied on sound. The humidity, however, played Hell with his knee.

Emily wandered aimlessly mulling over thoughts that she'd already mulled over far too many times to count. Life in the city was a pretty meager existence. If you weren't a soldier or one of the very few others who actually held some sort of function for society, there really wasn't much to do. With ration cards serving as currency, and rations habitually low, no one wasted their "money" on anything unnecessary. Individual or families were expected to do what was necessary to take care of themselves. Jobs for the most part, just didn't exist.

Once upon a time, Emily had dreamed of being an architect. She had even attended a prestigious private school to get the necessary degree. Her freshmen year had been best year of her life and sophomore year even better. That is, until the infection struck. The dark days that followed forever changed her, turning a happy-go-lucky, bright and optimistic young woman into a cynic without purpose. Three years later, and life hasn't gotten much easier, though the nightmares come less frequently now.

What she really needed, Emily mused, was a purpose, a goal, something to strive for and keep her going. Hope was a feeble thing these days, but if she could at least find something to hold onto, something to believe in, maybe that would be enough. For the moment all she had was her journal. She made an effort to write or draw something every day. That was the one thing that kept her sane. She needed something more. Wasting away alone in her flat, it was becoming clear to her, was as good as death, but what alternative did she have? Of course she could always risk everything and run off and join the fireflies. In fact she'd contemplated it on numerous occasions and always come to the same conclusion in the past.

The ground was a little sloped here. Carrying as much as he did, Benny was panting a bit. He'd become used to a massive amount of physical labor throughout his life, yes, but jobs that took days usually had him winded in a few hours. Especially with such a heavy weight lugged along behind him. And to think, he'd thought the courses at the academy were harsh. Every day of running the same thing, randomized each day to keep the body guessing. These jobs were often ten times harder, and much, much more unpredictable. Thunder exploded over him, shaking through his chest and waking him up a little more. Storms always woke him up so quickly, energized him better than caffeine---nearly impossible to get now---ever could.

Something seemed to be wrong as he walked. He paused, listening hard, but the sound vanished just as quickly. Shrugging it off as nothing, he started off again. Infected weren't as methodical as that. They didn't predict movements of others, they just wandered, moaned, clicked, stumbled about, and attacked when they saw prey. But the noise was back again, in an instant. Stopping again, this time Benny went for his gun, resting in a holster he'd sewn by hand onto the side of the backpack. With a light click he turned the safety off and spun around to face a young man, possibly twenty, with a splintered baseball bat. "Back up!" Benny's usually calm and light voice hardened immediately. "There's nothing here you want, get lost!"

"You don't know that." The young man had hesitated, but looked like he was trying to count on his speed to dodge a bullet not fifteen feet away from his head. "Could use a little, ah, food, some clothes... Got some pills in there? Ration cards?"

Benny's hand tightened hard on the gun. "Now, here's the thing: I don't want to do it. I'll be glad to shoot you, though, if you ask for it."

The stranger patted the back of the wheeler with the splintered bat. "How 'bout a split? It'd... take a little weight off."

"No."

The curt reply sent the stranger forward, and backward just as quickly as Benny sent a round through his head. He holstered the weapon and lifted up his wheeler again, starting off once more. He had to leave the area quickly, that was for sure. He hadn't wanted to harm the man. Just one more not around to see a possible end to the nightmare. Maybe someday it'd end, a cure would be found. At least he could help the Fireflies. They'd never been the best fighters, but they were all the people had.

The Fireflies... Emily sighed. In this day and age, the world had turned into black and whites. The militia good, Fireflies bad or vice versa according to your beliefs. For the sake of simplicity and survival however, most of the population simply ignored any political strife and blindly followed whoever would provide for them.

In a sense, what the military did was to be admired. Despite their greedy tendencies, they did provide for the most basic needs of the population and protect the city's inhabitants, although it seemed that the wall did most of their work for them. On the other hand, there were plenty of things they were doing wrong.

The Fireflies, on the other hand, could also be admired for attempting to show expose the indecencies of the militia and bring about a fairer governance, though their tactics weren't exactly peaceful. That was what had always turned Emily away from them in the past. There was already enough violence in the world without humans fighting amongst themselves.

The side street she had been walking ended and as she turned into a large avenue, Emily conceded that she was being too idealist. No matter what, humans would always have cause for strife. It was their tendency. Just take a look at the couple in C6 for example, they were always arguing about something, their yelling a constant presence on the other side of her apartment wall.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Emily didn't realize until too late that she had taken a wrong turn. Glancing forward she noticed a pair of soldiers sheltering beneath an open doorway. It was too late to turn around; they had already spotted her. From the looks of them, they were were on duty but had given up making their usual rounds in favor of staying dry. Keeping her head down, she attempted to slip past unnoticed.

Benny had stopped, leaning on the wheeler's top and digging in his bag for one of the bottles of water he'd stowed in there before leaving for this job. The rain had let up a bit, falling in more of a light mist now, though it had already taken the slight curl from his hair and had it plastered down. He hadn't looked into the wheeler yet, but as he shook his boot free of water, Benny hoped some of his replacement clothes had extra shoes. He'd have to go without after a while---trenchfoot would only slow him down, and was more of a danger nowadays. As he leaned on the top of the wheeler, Benny's thoughts drifted a bit. He couldn't help but think of the past sometimes, though somehow he'd adapted very quickly to what had happened. Though he'd never get over the loss of his love, it would have to be kept bottled up just so he could function.

People often wondered why he helped the Fireflies so much. If they had an opinion they didn't approve much of their more violent tactics, but those people just didn't know what it was like deeper into the government's circuitry. Before Benny was dropped because of his knee, he'd seen it begin to wither at the edges. He'd seen them kill innocent and uninfected people, children, babies, just because they didn't want to make another trip from one place to another. He'd walked through fields of uninfected outside abandoned evac points, disgusted at how blatant these acts were. And ration shortages were due to hoarding and developing cover stories for why some couldn't eat one day or another. It was no wonder some wanted to act out with violence, make the lives of the soldiers an officers just a little harder, as a form of payback.

Benny could get behind that, at least, though he'd rather keep his head down. Perhaps because he felt obligated, because he used to be one of them, but it seemed the Fireflies had much more than what was left of the government now. They had more ideas, more plans, more motivation to make things change rather than keep them the same, the same meager existences they were forced to live in. If people had a little more motivation like that, perhaps walled cities could be a little less of the slums they were now. perhaps the packaging and distribution of food and water could be handled more smoothly.

But that was probably a long, long time away. Turning with a sigh, Benny put his bag back on and started off again after kicking off his shoes and socks to continue barefoot.

"What do we have here?" The first soldier elbowed his buddy to get his attention, and stepped out to from the doorway. "Just where do you think you're going missy?" he said, approaching her from the left. Emily pretended not to hear but the soldier quickly caught onto her game and reached a gloved hand out to grab her by the arm.

She attempted to wrench her arm free without success. Whirling around to face the man who had snagged her Emily spat, "What, it's a crime to walk outside now? I have my ID if that's what you want." Shoving her free hand in her pocket, she held up the small plastic card for inspection.

Joining his partner, the second soldier pretended to inspect the card she presented. "On your knees!" he said roughly, pulling a scanner off his belt. Despite the pain of her knees hitting the pavement, Emily didn't wince. "You've got to be kidding me!" she snarled angrily as the first soldier butted his rifle against the back of her head.

A moment later the scanner beeped negative but the first soldier didn't remove the rifle. "What do you want?" she asked, refusing to let her nervousness show in her voice. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't walk the streets alone," the second soldier said with a sneer in his voice. "Why don't we escort you inside?"

Benny finally made it a point to stop for a long rest, under the natural shelter of a fallen oak in the middle of a park. The termites had already started work on the rotting thing, that had been charred by the lightning that struck it some time ago. It was under a metal park bench that had started to rust from lack of care he sat with a huff, rubbing his knee. It was stiff now, from a combined humidity and nearly-nonstop walking. It was painful, yes, but not overly so. If he were to continue, though, it would become exceptionally difficult.

From his seat, relatively sheltered in the nest of branches above his head and vines that had quickly and easily grown up and around the trees, he could see animals. Small animals, skittish creatures, squirrels and now-wild dogs, cats, even a deer foraging between a couple stout buildings. It was hard to hunt around the cities, especially since gunshots could attract infected as easily as scare away the animals one wanted. From time to time Benny could sneak out, though, set traps for the animals, if they were small. He never thought he'd have to look to animals that, at one time, were pets for food when rations were next to none and his extra stores were dangerously depleted. Today, though, that was hardly the case. He had food in his bag, and a few knives and guns. He didn't like guns as much as blunt or bladed weapons, though---they were strong, yes, but inaccurate from distances when one needed a quick shot. And loud! They were far too loud, especially when one had to be quiet.

Taking off his bag and pulling the wheeler close to him, Benny sighed and sat back, staring up at the bright green vines. This peaceful nature was beautiful, but so easily hid countless dangers. If, someday, a cure was found or the infected and the poison spores were finally eradicated, perhaps what was left of humanity would be able to preserve nature instead of destroy it in lieu of huge, sprawling cities...

The first soldier pushed his rifle back behind his shoulder and pulled her to her feet without releasing her wrist. In a gut-wrenching moment of clarity Emily realized that there was nothing to stop these soldiers from dragging her inside and having their way with her. And the most terrifying part was that she couldn't even see the faces behind their masks.

The second soldier already had his hands on her. Emily's heart beat rapidly beneath the hand on her breast as she quickly looked left and right, taking stock of the area. About 50 yards ahead there was an intersection. If she could manage to free herself from the first soldier's grip, she stood a good chance of getting away. With her long legs she was a naturally good runner and years of Track and Field had left her strong.

She didn't struggle as they steered her in the direction of the nearest doorway. That would merely tire her out before she got a chance to make her move. Let them believe she had resigned herself to the inevitable and maybe they would let down their guard... As the empty door frame loomed closer and closer plotted her move.

A second after the second soldier passed through the doorway, Emily threw her unhampered elbow back with all of her force into the first soldier's ribcage. Though winded enough not to immediately cry out, his hand was still clamped in a vice grip around her arm. Pulling his pinkie finger back until the bone cracked quickly took care of that problem, however the resulting scream quickly alerted his partner.

Aware that if she didn't escape now both of them would be on her in a second, Emily shoved the first man in front of her, his momentum forcing him into his buddy. Not waiting to see if the move had been effective, she made a break for it. Arms and legs pumping, Emily dashed for the nearest intersection. Throwing herself around the corner she held no doubts that she would be pursued. Insulting a man’s pride could reap dangerous consequences.

Benny had resigned himself to sitting here for a while longer, and to pass the time he fished a book from an outer pocket of his bag. It was wrapped in a blue shopping bag to keep the water away, and when he unwrapped it, the item fell open at once from years of use. Maybe it was bad to remind himself so casually of his past, what he had before all this, but it was that sense of calm that came with it that made him read and reread all these entries, these photographs and sketches of flowers and trees, collected over at least a decade. He didn't read the entries this time, but instead went to some old pictures. One wasn't so old, taken about a year before the infection started. It was of Benny, and his first partner as an agent---a detective. He'd been a couple years older, the exact opposite of everything Benny was, yet they had gotten along so well it made most people envious. The photo had been taken outside the department on a bright and sunny day, after they had discovered the whereabouts of a few kidnapped kids. A happy day.

Benny didn't realize that he was smiling at the recollection, and his eyes stung a bit. A flash of lightning struck through the air, followed by thunder that shook him out of his thoughts and made him snap the book shut. He didn't need to put himself back in that situation again... If it hadn't been for him...

Benny stuffed the book back into his bag and zipped it closed, pulling out another small bag, this one of pre-measured food he had packed. Usually if the meat in their packs wasn't freeze-dried or swimming in preservatives, it was salted and smoked to last years. His was the latter, which made sure it kept its flavor and its original nutrition. Though nowadays it would be dusted with a vitamin powder that made one quite thirsty. Thus the life of after the outbreak, finding what one needed in any way possible. Dodging the corruption that was only growing every day, every year. Just surviving. Most couldn't find a purpose now. Many occupations and jobs were dead now because they were deemed useless. And not many were level-headed or physically-inclined enough to be able to do what Benny did. It demanded endurance, long-distance running ability, clear lungs, and a tolerance for being especially uncomfortable.

Looking up, Benny couldn't tell where the sun was, but he had an idea that it was past three in the afternoon. Balling up the empty bags, Benny put them back in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, moving the wheeler to get a good grip on it as he stepped out from under the tree.

Emily heard the sounds of pursuit behind her. Though she had gotten a good head start, she would still need to be smart if she was going to make it out of this safely. Sprinting though the city at a dead-out run would get her killed just as easily if she was caught by the two behind her. Any soldier who saw her running at this break-neck pace would immediately detain her for questioning.

The smartest thing to do would be to get inside and hide as soon as possible, as much to loose the trail of the couple behind her as to stay clear of other groups of militia. Unfortunately for her though, most of the buildings on this block were boarded over, unfit for habitation. Turning again on the next side street, Emily sought a promising hiding spot and again found none.

Though she was well ahead of her pursuers, both had guns that could fire long range. It didn't suffice to outrun them, in this case she needed to ensure that she wasn't seen. Not one to panic, Emily made another turn, and almost immediately grabbed a street sign to bring her reckless momentum to a halt, swinging herself back behind the cover of the nearest boarded-over doorway.

It was just her luck... Not 100 yards in front of her was another patrol of officers. They hadn't spotted her yet but were effectively blocking her from escape. Her pursuit was catching up and any minute now her game would be up. Looking for any purchase on the facing building, Emily realized she was screwed. She was about to turn back and take her chances with another side street when the board behind her slid away.

Without so much as second-guessing, Emily slipped inside as the person already inside slid the board back into place and held her breath as moments later two pairs of booted feet ran past. Her pursuers conferred with the second patrol and both parties moved out, backtracking past her hiding spot, presumably under the belief that she hadn't come this way. Releasing her pent up breath, Emily turned, "Whew, that was a close one..."

It was just his luck to find that an old building had decided to give way and scatter its rubble all over the place, blocking the road. If he'd had only his backpack with him, Benny would have been able to get over it easily, but he had the wheeler too, and that thing hated especially uneven ground. Huffing, Benny looked around for a way that wouldn't be difficult. A doorway stood open nearby, going into what looked like a department store, but he couldn't really tell. He went left, then, through the wide-open doorway that had no door left to close. Inside the small area, dust and mildew hit him at once, but no sign of spores, and before that confirmation he'd had reached instinctively for the gas mask hooked to the outside of his bag.

He had to go through the store, full of useless old clothes that were probably better for torch-making. Wrapping some of these old, dry fabric pieces atop a pipe or other metal item and dousing it in a little gas and animal fat would have it burn for a few hours. It was useful to save those rare batteries and the power in flashlights when one couldn't find a solar-powered light to charge up. And when it rained, solar power was far too unreliable. His hoarding tendencies struck suddenly, and Benny immediately paused, bending down to gather up some thin shirts and scraps from cut-up jeans and stuff them into an empty compartment of his bag. They would come in handy sometime, whether for starting a fire or actually making a temporary torch was yet to be determined. He might even be able to use some of the better areas of the fabric for patches or plugs.

Standing again, he hurried along, through the storage area in the back and out the double doors. Now he was closer to the city, but if he stayed quiet no one would bother looking this way. He was still moving at a healthy pace, skipping a little on his good leg to save unnecessary strain on the other. This was an alley, and the wheeler bounced along the somewhat uneven ground as he hurried to put more distance between him and the outpost he had to get to. Once he was out of the unsecured area of the city it'd be more rural and open, with fewer obstacles. Unless one considered the infected an obstacle, and most certainly did. Benny tried to avoid most intense situations, it just didn't seem to work.

He paused for a moment, and heard something moving. At once his heart dropped down to his stomach, and he strained his ears to hear. No clicks, no moans or screams or squeals. Whatever it was, it wasn't infected, but that only made it more dangerous. He moved the wheeler to a nearby fallen tree and covered it strategically with branches and debris. Stowing his backpack under it, he grabbed a few guns and put them in his pockets, and a machete he praised for its durability and easily-sharpening blade. Radio static cut through the general sound of silence and overtaking nature, and Benny leapt away from his things and slid into a dumpster nearby. If they passed by easily, he wouldn't have to harm them. If he harmed them, at least one would have radioed back to let others know what was happening before Benny got to them.

I see you've had the misfortune of meeting Daryl and Stan." responded the female voice behind her. Turning, Emily took stock of her rescuer. The woman was either middle-aged, or the stress of the past five years had aged her behind her time. Frizzled brown hair sought to escape from an untidy bun at the back of her head and green eyes stared back at her, half laughing. Beneath that however, Emily sensed a calculating mind, and held no doubts that this woman could have killed her just as soon as save her.

Reserved as always but keeping in mind the fact that this woman had likely just saved her from a gruesome ending, Emily played along. "Don't tell me you know those two creeps..." she said with a face of disgust.

"Not personally," came the reply, "But I've been keeping an eye on them." As the woman leaned back against the wall, Emily noticed a glint of metal around her neck. "You're a firefly," she noted.

"That's right," the woman replied warily, "I hope you don't mind me saving your ass back there." Hitching her thumb back towards her shoulder to indicate the door before casually dropping her hand to the pocket of her jeans.

Not missing the gesture or the fact that there was a handgun in the pocket her hand had come to rest on, Emily replied, "Thanks for that." Her tone was genuine though she remained guarded. After an awkward moment of silence she sighed, "Sorry...this is just my first time meeting one of you."
mi
The woman across from her sighed likewise and pushed off of the wall to hold out her hand, "The name's Amber." Emily bridged the gap between them and shook the hand Amber offered, "I'm Emily. It's nice to meet you."

Footsteps passed by relatively at ease. These men constantly wore gas masks when outside the walls in case they ran into spore patches. They grew randomly, but Benny had never seen them in sunny or wide-open places, and this small alley was both sunny and rather wide-open. To the left stood stout houses with their rotting fences and gates half-broken or eaten by termites, broken down by passersby or infected. to the right stood taller buildings, brick and mortar, and some overturned or full dumpsters, one which Benny was in. He had his machete out---if he could slice the neck of the one bringing up the rear, it'd be relatively silent and he could drag the body away. The first one marched by, gun held at ease in front of him, and he didn't make it a habit of looking backward. The two in the middle were talking quietly to one another, their voices a bit muffled as they were filtered through the masks. The one bringing up the rear had his gun slung over his back, fingers in his pockets.

Benny slid out of his hiding place a few moments after the last one went by, keeping low and taking cover behind a dumpster that stood upright and seemed half full. It was hard to stay completely quiet in the vegetation and loose stone underfoot now, but he managed well enough after a while of practice in the past, even before this started. Ducking behind a bush that had managed to grow out from between planks in a rotting fence, Benny readied his machete and stepped forward, but was thrown back into hiding when someone rose out of the upright dumpster and twisted a wire around the straggler's neck in a makeshift garrote, pulling it tight before the man could make a sound. He struggled a bit, clawing at the wire that had cut through his neck, and Benny winced a little as it was ripped upward and the man was stolen away into the dumpster by the stranger.

Whomever he was, the man jumped out of the dumpster on the other side, nearer to Benny, and locked eyes with him. Dark eyes, almost black by the look of it, and hair just as dark, and very long. It whipped about like a tail when he looked around again, then back to Benny. A hand came up, bloodied from the man he had dragged into the dumpster and apparently looted of his gun and radio. He didn't speak, but motioned for Benny to take the one on the left quietly, and he would grab the one on the right at the same time. Benny didn't speak, but nodded once. This man was a Firefly, that sewn logo on his damp buttondown shirt and the tag swinging from his belt loop said so, but Benny knew him more personally than that. He and the other, older man crept forward---Benny traded the machete from one hand to the other, and the other Firefly twisted his wire around his hands again. Walking in step behind the talking men, they stood at once and acted.

Benny's blade cut deeply, slicing the jugular and catching him before he fell. The Firefly's wire went deep into the neck, twisted around and copied the first move, drawing it tight and twisting it. The frontman had spun around at the sudden silence and slight scuffling, and the Firefly shoved his guard into the other, sending him off balance for Benny to draw his gun and shoot. The sound was brief, and echoed, but none had managed to call their base before their death.

Benny turned to the Firefly. "Thanks for that, Lee. Didn't expect to see you after last time."

The Firefly, Lee, shrugged. "No one ever puts much faith into the convicted murderer." He said. "My criminal record stands even now."

"Maybe because you killed over three hundred people in the course of eight years."

Lee waved Benny's words off. "Still. Everyone expects me to go crazy or get myself killed any day now."

"You're doing a damn good job surviving so far." Benny made it as a compliment.

"Maybe. Hey---Where's your tag?" Lee scrutinized Benny up and down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain, and the Firefly logo gleamed. "Keeping it quiet, eh?"

"Well, when you're around the soldiers every day, not much you can do with the Firefly logo swinging in the open."

"I suppose... So I hear there's a shipment of clothes coming by? You're delivering?"

Nodding, Benny motioned for Lee to follow and uncovered the wheeler and his bag. Both had escaped notice. "Got a couple changes for me, but the rest is all for you guys."

Lee smiled. "Well, don't suppose I'll let you go on it alone. C'mon, then, I've scouted out a clear path and it circles around any patrols." He took the wheeler over, going by Benny and nodding to him to follow. He did, grabbing one of the large automatic guns from the fallen officers and trudging along behind Lee.

"You seem competent enough..." Amber observed, "We could always use an extra pair of hands if you've got it in you."

The sudden offer hit her like a jolt of electricity. Either the Fireflies were in disparate need of new recruits, or Amber wasn't the type to beat around the bush... Speechless, Emily stood dumb and mute as she mulled over the sudden offer of employment. Earlier today she would have outright refused without even a moment's consideration. The recent turn of events however gave her reason to pause.

"Oh come on," pleaded Amber jokingly, "What have you got to lose?"

Ignoring the rhetorical question, Emily refused to comment. There were plenty of things to lose from joining any political faction: life and limb, freedom to act according to one's own will, sleep... 'And my morality,' she thought. Killing any more than necessary definitely wasn't high on her list of things to do...

Sensing Emily's reluctance, Amber continued, "We offer extra rations and other bonuses: clothing, gear, training... Heck you even get to travel!" she added in a mocking sales-man like tone. "Oh yeah, and there's the fact that you'd be helping a worth cause," she added in a more serious voice.

"You mean killing soldiers. One less of the enemy makes the world a better place?" Emily asked angrily.

Amber sighed and for a moment Emily caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. "I'm not going to lie and tell you that that's not the reasoning of some Fireflies but I can assure you not all of us think like that."

Emily's face remained impassive as she considered. "Why did you join?" she asked at last, her voice hushed.

"So, Lee. How'd you get out?"

"'Out'?"

"Out of the facility. Last time I was granted permission to talk to you, they had you all bound up behind three inches of bulletproof glass in a concrete and cinder block cell."

Lee chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, yeah... See, when all this started happening, mass hysteria that kept growing and getting out of control, the whole facility was evacuated. I was transported independently for my level of security, but on the way we took a detour and early infected started swarming the van. The lock was smashed off and when I felt everything was quiet, I got the hell out."

"In a straitjackt. How'd you get out? And run?"

"Well, it's easy to get out of a straitjacket if you don't mind a little pain..." Lee rolled his shoulders. "I popped my joints out of place and pulled it over my head."

Benny grimaced. "Son of a bitch, that's... bad! Lee..."

"Do what you have to do to survive. In the beginning it was everyone for themselves, when we were sure the world was at its end and no one would be around to see the next morning. Now things are more structured. Some of us are still reckless but more often, it's one way or the other, even if you say you don't want to get involved."

Benny was silent for a while, running his thumb over the etched insignia on the round piece of metal in his pocket. He had been so involved in politics and policies before all this started that he'd wanted to remain completely indifferent, do what he could to get by, explore a little outside the boundaries of the city. But then things started happening to him. It seemed he kept being harassed, the object of jokes and annoyance by different fractions in the city. Some would even stare and leer his way, putting him off entirely. Then Lee arrived. If Benny wasn't mistaken the one-time killer had crept in under the cover of darkness. His naturally dark skin, hair, and eyes from his pure Native American blood made him hard to see in the dark, and his years of keeping inconspicuous and silent made him otherwise shadow-like. Benny appreciated him for that, and Lee was happy to accept him as what could be considered a 'friend' in the older man's thoughts. Even though Benny was the one to put him away.

"Looks like your bum knee's playing nice today."

The words snapped Benny back to reality, and he glanced down. He was limping, yes, a little less now than before. "I guess. I just... don't think I'm up to what I used to be."

"Quit being stupid." Lee growled, showing his own unique way of kindness. "You're just fine. I never saw a little limp completely undo someone."

Benny smiled. "Sure, sure. So, tell me about this little fraction of Fireflies, Lee. How big is it, exactly?"

A hard look came across Amber’s face and Emily feared she might outright refuse to answer. After a moment however, the older woman yielded. "It happened three years ago," she began with a sigh, "My son Matt found a puppy that had been abandoned by its mother, the runt of the litter. He wanted to keep it, just like any small boy would, and though I knew it would be another mouth to feed, how I could I refuse? With that scrawny little dog in his arms and the first smile on his face in a year?"

Amber’s lips turned up in a brief smile as she recalled the happy face of her little boy but her expression just as quickly fell when she continued. "It was tough, but we managed to nurse it back to health. Matt named him Hero. Those two were inseparable and for the first time in a long time, I finally began to feel that things might just turn out okay. I was afraid that after David’s death, Matt might never be the same..."

Amber sighed heavily and forced herself to continue, "They were playing outside one day and Hero ran off. It was a game they would play, chasing each other, and I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Matt followed him all the way to the wall. He was so focused on catching Hero that he didn’t hear the soldiers’ shouting and didn’t heed their warnings."

Amber’s voice cracked but no tears fell as she finished, "They shot him. They shot an innocent little boy for playing too close to the wall." Swallowing hard, she added unnecessarily, "I’ll never forgive them."

"I’m so sorry," said Emily with genuine sympathy. She stared at the fraying laces on her booted feet and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Sighing, Emily brushed the drying strands of her bangs out of her face and broke the silence, "What do I have to do?" she asked, "If I’m going to do this that is…" she added hastily, as if to cover herself just in case.

Not so consumed with vengeance to miss Emily’s bluff, Amber hid her amusement with a cough. "I’d take you to my associate Andrew who’d make you a pretty necklace and find someone to train you. You game?" she asked, the hint of a challenge in her voice, "If you don’t have anything better to do, we could head over there now. I’m just about finished here.."

Emily pretended to consider before finally giving in. "Alright," the resignation clear in her voice, "Let’s get this over with before I change my mind." Amber chuckled at the younger girl’s huffy tone and replied, "I’m sure Andrew will be happy to have such an eager new recruit on board." Emily just rolled her eyes and let Amber lead the way.