2013:
D/N POV:
I found myself stuck in traffic, the blaring sound of the radio filling the silence. My wife sat anxiously beside me, her concern mirroring my own about the current state of affairs and the new infection that seemed to be driving people mad.
Feeling a surge of unease, I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved my handgun. Checking the clip, I reassured myself that I had enough ammunition. Determined to find answers about the duration of this traffic, I turned to my wife.
"Hey, I'll be back soon," I said, mustering a confident tone.
My wife's grip tightened on my hand, her fear evident in her trembling hands. "Please don't leave me. I'm scared," she pleaded.
I leaned in and kissed her on the lips, hoping to offer some reassurance. "Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. Take this," I said, handing her my hunting knife. "Just in case."
She took the knife, her confidence visibly bolstered. With a final glance, I stepped out of the truck, determined to investigate the cause of the prolonged traffic jam.
As I made my way through the stagnant line of cars, fear and anxiety were palpable among the frightened individuals. Ahead, a checkpoint loomed, guarded by military soldiers armed with machine guns held firmly in their hands.
A soldier, identified by the tag "Hunter," approached me and extended his hand. "Sir, I strongly advise you to return to your vehicle," he demanded, pointing back in the direction I had come from.
But I was resolute. "I want to know what the hell is going on," I asserted, refusing to back down.
Suddenly, an explosion erupted, sending shockwaves of panic through the crowd. Infected beings emerged from the chaos, attacking unsuspecting citizens. The military responded swiftly, opening fire as chaos ensued. With a surge of adrenaline, I sprinted back towards my truck, desperate to evade becoming their next victim.
As I hurried towards the truck, an infected lunged at me, pinning me against a nearby car. Its gaping maw threatened to tear into my throat. Acting on instinct, I reached for a nearby pipe and forcefully jammed it into the creature's mouth, buying myself a moment of reprieve.
But before I could fully process the situation, my wife appeared beside me, wielding the hunting knife. With a swift and decisive motion, she plunged the blade into the infected's head, neutralizing the threat.
"We have to go!" she urgently exclaimed, gripping my hand and pulling me towards the truck. I wasted no time and quickly jumped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. In my haste, I reversed forcefully, colliding with the car behind us. Ignoring the damage, I swiftly spun the steering wheel, manoeuvring the truck out of the line-up.
As we sped away, I glanced in the rear-view mirror, witnessing the infected giving chase. Determined to escape their clutches, I made a split-second decision and veered onto a rough dirt track. But just as hope began to flicker, the engine sputtered and the truck came to an abrupt halt, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere.
Frustration and panic surged through me as I futilely attempted to ignite the engine, only to be met with the disheartening sputter of a broken-down vehicle. "No, no!" I exclaimed, realizing our dire situation. "Get out!" I commanded, swiftly exiting the truck and making my way to retrieve my guns.
I popped open the trunk, grabbing my trusty hunting rifle, its weight reassuring in my hands. The approaching sounds of infected grew louder, their presence closing in. As I quickly reloaded the rifle.
My wife secured the survival kit and began running. I scanned the area, taking aim and firing, bringing down the first infected in our path. With my wife by my side, we sprinted down a narrow dirt path, our hearts pounding with each stride.
I did my best to fend off the relentless onslaught of infected, firing shots to keep them at bay. Yet, despite our efforts, we found ourselves cornered, trapped in a dead end. Desperation washed over us, and it seemed as though our impending doom loomed ever closer.
I steadied my rifle, my finger resting on the trigger as I anxiously awaited the next wave of infected. With just a single bullet left in my chamber, the odds seemed stacked against us. But then, a sudden eruption of gunfire echoed through the air, shattering the tension. It was a military contingent coming to our rescue, their bullets cutting through the infected with precision.
One of the soldiers approached us, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now," he assured us.
My wife took a step forward, her voice filled with caution. "Who are you?" she inquired.
The soldier removed his gas mask and helmet, revealing himself to be Lieutenant Mason. He held a rifle in his hands, his demeanour projecting authority. "I'm Lieutenant Mason," he introduced himself. "Come with us. We can escort you to a safe place."
Without hesitation, my wife and I decided to follow them. It seemed like the best course of action given the circumstances. As we walked, Lieutenant Mason strode alongside me, a lit cigar between his fingers. He exhaled a puff of smoke and offered me a compliment. "You're a decent shot with that hunting rifle," he remarked, acknowledging my skills.
"Thanks, I'm a former Marine," I replied confidently, walking alongside Lieutenant Mason. "I know my way around a gun."
Lieutenant Mason turned to me, his gaze serious. "Listen, the world has gone to hell. I'm assembling my own branch of soldiers, and I'm looking for capable individuals. You have experience, and more importantly, you seem like a good man."
He paused, his words sinking in. "Are you willing to join up? It would offer you the best chance of protecting your wife," he added, glancing at her, her fear evident.
As I looked at my wife, the weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders. I took a deep breath and straightened my posture. "I'm in," I declared, extending my hand to shake Lieutenant Mason's. It was a decision made with the hope of securing a better future for both myself and my wife.
Ellie POV:
As I sat there in the quiet darkness, tending to the cut on my arm, a sharp sting reminded me of the pain I had endured. Suddenly, Cassandra entered the room, raising an eyebrow as she caught sight of my makeshift stitching.
"Need a hand there?" she offered, her voice laced with concern.
I leaned back, inviting her to take over. With skilled hands, Cassandra took over the task and swiftly finished sewing up my wound. A comforting pat on my shoulder followed.
"There we go," she said, her attention shifting to a large map on the desk. "I've located one of the other members."
"Abby?" I asked, seeking clarification.
"No," Cassandra replied, placing a polaroid of Nora on the table. "She's been assigned to a hospital."
I pointed to the medical sign on the map, seeking confirmation. "This one?"
Cassandra nodded, her gaze fixed on the location. "Yeah, that's the one. I'm going this time. I won't miss another opportunity to gather information."
I recognized that determined look in her eyes, reminiscent of Y/N's. I knew better than to argue with her. With a nod, I agreed to accompany her, leaving the theatre behind as we set out to find the hospital and interrogate Nora for crucial information.
Moving through Seattle with Cassandra was an exhilarating experience, filled with laughter and adventure. As we descended into a building, I eagerly pushed open a door, only to realize too late that the noise had attracted a group of clickers.
"Shit," Cassandra exclaimed, swiftly joining me in pushing against the door to keep the clickers at bay. The tension in the air was palpable as we struggled to hold the door closed. Just when we thought we had the situation under control, a clicker emerged from behind, catching us off guard.
Instinctively, I lunged forward, grappling with the clicker to steer it away from Cassandra. The struggle intensified as the clicker pushed me against a nearby window. Desperation coursed through me as I fought to prevent it from tearing out my throat. However, the force was too great, and the window shattered, sending both of us hurtling through the air.
Amidst the chaos, I could hear Cassandra's voice piercing through the mayhem. "Ellie!" she shouted, her concern evident. The impact with the water below was jarring, plunging me into a world of swirling darkness.
As I tumbled through the dark, filthy water, disorientation took hold. I fought my way to the surface, gasping for air and desperately trying to regain my composure. But before I could fully recover, the clicker that had pulled me under resurfaced, its grotesque form looming over me.
Summoning every ounce of strength and determination, I thrust my knife into the clicker, ending its threat once and for all. As it released its grip, I emerged from the water, coughing and sputtering, my senses reeling from the intense struggle.
Ahead of me, the water led into a tunnel, beckoning me forward. With a deep breath, I braced myself and allowed the current to carry me, enduring its relentless tossing and turning. I swam, propelled by sheer will, until my hands found purchase on a metal boardwalk. I pulled myself up, my back pressed against the cold, wet surface, seeking a moment of respite.
In that brief respite, a wave of exhaustion washed over me, and my mind played tricks. I thought I saw Y/N standing on the other side of a gated door, his eyes devoid of humanity. Shaking off the haunting vision, I jolted myself back to reality.
I climbed a nearby ladder, pushing open the grate and emerging onto solid ground. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I looked around in bewilderment. "Where the hell am I?" I muttered aloud, the question hanging in the air, unanswered.
Cassandra POV:
Gasping for breath, I slammed the door shut behind me, desperately trying to block the relentless horde of clickers. As I scanned the room for an escape route, my gaze landed on a sturdy shelf. With a surge of adrenaline, I yanked it down, barricading the door. Through the small hatch, I witnessed the clickers viciously pounding against the barrier, their eerie cries echoing in the air.
Realizing that time was running out, I frantically surveyed my surroundings. Spotting a window leading to a nearby building's walkway, I made a split-second decision. With a swift movement, I forced the window open and scrambled onto the narrow ledge, my heart pounding in my chest.
But my respite was short-lived. The door splintered under the relentless assault of the clickers, and panic surged through my veins. I sprinted along the precarious walkway, desperately searching for a means of escape. As I leaped onto the rooftop, my eyes widened in despair. There was nowhere left to run. The dead end stared back at me, mocking my futile attempts to survive.
With a heavy sigh, I braced myself, gripping my pistol tightly. Regret and grief washed over me as I prepared for the final confrontation. "I'm sorry, Y/N," I murmured softly, my voice tinged with the weight of failure. Helplessness engulfed me as I steeled myself for the inevitable battle, knowing that I had been unable to save my brother.
As the clickers closed in on the rooftop, I unleashed a flurry of gunfire, desperately fighting for my life. But in a stroke of unexpected luck, a sniper's bullet pierced the air, striking the clickers with deadly precision.
I instinctively ducked, narrowly avoiding the sniper's shot. Blinking in disbelief, I watched as the clickers fell one by one, their threat extinguished by the enigmatic marksman. Yet, before I could even process what had happened, the sniper vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a lingering sense of mystery.
With the immediate danger eliminated, I took a deep breath and composed myself. Utilizing my rock climbing skills, I carefully descended from the rooftop, each movement deliberate and calculated. As my feet touched solid ground, I wasted no time, swiftly navigating through the desolate streets. My thoughts turned to Ellie, and I wondered where she might have ended up.
Consulting my map, I traced the drain system's path, searching for the most likely point of exit. Determination fuelled my stride as I set off in that direction, running with a sense of urgency. Every step brought me closer to the answers I sought and the hope of finding Ellie amidst the chaos that surrounded us.
Ellie POV:
I approached a podium with a map, desperate to figure out my current location. It revealed my whereabouts and also marked the location of the hospital. If Cassandra was headed anywhere, it would likely be the hospital.
Deciding to take a shortcut through a park, I hopped over a fence, seeking cover amidst the overgrown leaves and trees. As I made my way through the dense foliage, I suddenly caught the sound of someone whistling nearby. Alert and cautious, I quickly sought refuge behind a sturdy tree, gripping my rifle tightly.
With my senses on high alert, I scanned the area, trying to pinpoint the source of the whistling. To gain a better vantage point, I climbed up a small embankment, only to be caught off guard as an arrow pierced through my shoulder. Pain surged through me, and I fell backward, landing on the ground in agony.
Summoning all my strength, I reached for the arrow, gritting my teeth as I pulled it out. Tremors of pain coursed through my body, and I leaned against a nearby wall for support. Confusion and anger mingled within me as I questioned aloud, "Who the fuck are these people?" Their motives were unknown to me, and I remained on guard, prepared for whatever lay ahead.
As I cautiously navigated the area, my worst fears became a grim reality. I stumbled upon a gruesome scene where the "Scars" had captured and tortured a helpless victim, stringing him up as a horrifying display. A sickening feeling churned in the pit of my stomach, wishing desperately for an end to this madness.
Suddenly, I found myself caught off guard by a tall, bald, and muscular man. He forcefully threw me over a nearby desk, causing my back to collide painfully with the counter. The man whistled, alerting his fellow Scars to my presence, and he swung an axe in a vicious attempt to end my life.
Instinctively, I weaved and dodged, countering his attacks with my knife. The deadly dance continued, with me evading his strikes and retaliating, until he managed to seize my wrist and then wrapped his hand around my throat. The air was constricted, and the world began to darken around me.
But just as hope seemed to fade, a saviour emerged from the shadows. Someone struck the man's leg with a powerful blow from a machete, forcing him to release his grip. I watched in awe as Cassandra swiftly swung her machete, cleaving the man's head in half, ending his threat once and for all. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood spilling everywhere.
A wave of relief washed over me as Cassandra approached, teasing, "Missed me?" She extended a hand, helping me to my feet. "We need to go," she urged, the urgency in her voice clear.
Cassandra and I battled our way through a barrage of scars, managing to evade their grasp by leaping into a nearby river and swimming to safety. In our desperate escape, Cassandra led us through a concealed tunnel hidden beneath the water's surface.
As we emerged from the tunnel, I noticed a young girl sitting on a crate, engrossed in a device with headphones on. Oblivious to our presence, she remained unaware of the danger lurking nearby. Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly approached her, swiftly placing my knife against her throat, my voice a low, menacing whisper, "Not a sound."
Snatching the earphones from her head, I commanded, "Hands up!" The blade of my knife grazed her skin, a stark reminder of the peril she now faced.
With a mixture of fear and panic, the girl raised her trembling hands and pleaded, "Please, take it easy... I won't make a move."
"Do you know a girl named Nora?" Cassandra inquired, her gaze scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.
Pressing the knife closer to the girl's throat, I demanded, "Where is she?"
"In the hospital," the girl answered, her voice quivering.
Cassandra struck the girl across the face, demanding more specific information, "Where in the hospital? Give us details!"
Swallowing hard and clearly frightened, the girl stammered, "They're... they're evacuating the upper floors. She's somewhere up there."
I cautiously eased my grip on the girl's throat, causing her to lunge forward in a desperate attempt to stab me. Reacting swiftly, I managed to seize her wrist, preventing the blade from finding its mark.
In a split-second decision, I swiftly withdrew my knife and struck her in the throat, causing her to gurgle on her own blood. As her life faded away, I coldly wiped the blood off my blade before sheathing it.
"That was a reckless move," I remarked, observing the lifeless body on the ground. With the threat eliminated, I turned my attention to Cassandra, who had picked up the game console.
"The kids back at Jackson will appreciate this," she said, tucking the console into her backpack. We resumed our journey, walking side by side, alert and vigilant, keeping our senses sharp for any potential dangers.
Soon enough, Cassandra discovered a vent, and I took the lead, silently manoeuvring my way through the narrow passage. We agreed to split up, each taking a different path to search for and locate Nora. Through the small openings in the vent, I caught glimpses of Nora's movements and silently followed her trail.
I located Nora in a storage room, catching her by surprise as I entered. With my gun trained on her, I warned her not to make a sound. Locking eyes with her, I asked, "Remember me? Yeah, you remember me."
Nora raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "If you shoot, every guard will come running," she tried to reason, attempting to find a way out of the situation.
"Even if they come, you'll still end up dead," I sneered, refusing to lower my weapon.
Nora's gaze shifted, and she realized my determination. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice tinged with desperation.
"Y/N, the person you kidnapped. Where the hell is he?" I demanded, taking a step closer, my tone filled with urgency.
"I don't know," Nora replied, slowly lowering her hands. "Only Abby would know."
"Then where the fuck is Abby?" I pressed, my frustration mounting as I sought answers.
Nora took a deep breath, composing herself. "You still care for him?" she asked, diverting the conversation.
"What?" I responded, bewildered by the sudden change in topic.
A smirk formed on Nora's face. "That bastard got what he deserved, and whatever Colonel Mason does to him is justified," she taunted. The anger surged within me, momentarily distracting me from Nora's movements. Seizing the opportunity, she swiftly hurled a tray at me and bolted out of the room.
I swiftly pursued Nora, racing through the hospital floor while evading the pursuing wolves. In a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand, I seized Nora as a hostage, using her as a shield. However, my focus was abruptly disrupted by a sudden drop behind us.
The area below was infested with deadly spores, posing a grave threat to anyone who inhaled them. Reacting instinctively, I yanked Nora down with me.
As the spores engulfed the air, she began coughing violently, struggling to breathe, while I remained unharmed due to my immunity. Taking cover behind a nearby desk, I surveyed the scene, preparing for the wolves' impending arrival.
To my relief, Cassandra descended alongside me, donning her own gas mask. Observing my lack of protection, she remarked, "Wish I was immune."
With a shared sense of determination, Cassandra and I launched a fierce assault on the incoming wolves, methodically taking them down one by one. Amidst the chaos, Cassandra inquired, "Where did Nora go?"
As I followed the trail of dusty footprints, I arrived in a hallway where Nora was slumped by a set of double doors, visibly affected by the spores. With caution, I approached her, but she mustered the strength to swing a pipe at me.
Reacting swiftly, I seized hold of the pipe, forcefully wrenching it from her grasp. In a swift and coordinated move, Cassandra took over, lifting Nora up and delivering a powerful punch that sent her crashing to the ground. Nora coughed up phlegm and vomit, clearly weakened by the effects of the spores.
Holding the pipe firmly in my hand, I confronted Nora directly, my patience wearing thin. "Where's Abby?" I demanded, growing tired of the elusive game she seemed to be playing.
Nora, her back pressed against the double doors, let out a groan as she coughed uncontrollably. "I'm dying anyway. Why would I tell you anything?" she defiantly declared, a final act of resistance.
Bending down closer to her, I adopted a cold and menacing tone. "Because I can make it quick, or I can make it so much worse," I threatened, making it clear that her cooperation was in her best interest.
Nora groaned once more, her coughs intensifying. "I'm not giving up my friend," she stubbornly replied, holding onto her loyalty until the very end.
Cassandra and I applied pressure to Nora, urging her to reveal Abby's whereabouts. Eventually, Nora broke under the relentless torment and confessed that Abby might be found at an Aquarium. Fulfilling my earlier threat, I swiftly ended Nora's life with a single, decisive bullet to the head.
As we fled the hospital and consulted the map, we realized that reaching the Aquarium wouldn't be an easy task. It seemed wiser to return to the theatre, regroup, and replenish our strength before continuing the journey. However, amidst the turmoil and exhaustion, one pressing concern weighed heavily on my mind.
This harrowing journey had brought forth the darkest aspects of my being, causing me to question the state of my soul and the extent to which I had changed and potentially lost touch with who I once was. My emotions towards Y/N remained complex and tangled, and I found myself contemplating the course of action I would take when our paths inevitably crossed again.