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Joel blinked awake, the milky light sifting through the gossamer curtains doing nothing for the splitting headache he’d gone to bed with. He stretched minutely, careful of Tess who had an arm slung around his middle. He dropped back onto the pillow, trying to eke out a few more minutes of the only rest he would have for the day.
It wouldn’t come. He gently removed Tess’s arm from around him and straightened in front of the window. He was stiff, which was nothing new. Twelve hour shifts in the ash pit would do that to someone his age. He made his way to the table. The oxies were there where he’d left them the night before.
He swallowed a few dry, then rummaged through the cabinets in search of something to eat. He found a can of corned beef which he spread on a piece of stale bread. He looked up and Tess was standing in the doorway, watching him.
“We’re almost out of cards. If we could get some good runs, we might be able to score some eggs…a goddamn piece of fruit.”
Joel grunted. “Produce lines are all dried up,” he said gruffly, wolfing down his toast. He moved to the sink, drinking straight from the tap. He wiped his hands on a faded dishtowel and then spread some of the corned beef for Tess. He handed it to her, eyebrows raised.
She smiled. Ever the provider, she thought, even if it was expired corned beef on week-old bread. She took it gratefully, taking a smaller bite than he did and chewing slowly. It gave her time to think.
She watched Joel as he rubbed at his temples--from tension or pain, she didn’t know. They were often one in the same these days. “Still got that headache?”
Joel frowned into his hand. “Yeah. Last night and this morning. At least I don’t have to go in ‘till the afternoon.”
He grabbed the bottle of liquor from the table and filled the glass that was there. Back before the world went to shit, bartenders would call his pour two fingers of whiskey. Things were so frivolous then. So meaningless.
He swallowed, his hand starting to shake. Well, not everything.
Tess finished her toast, then moved up behind him. She smoothed her hands over the rigid line of his shoulders, digging her thumbs in. In all their years together, he’d always felt this way…muscles taught, all sinew and bone and coiled as if something was about to happen.
She tried to work out the knots anyway. When her hands drifted over his collar bone, he grabbed one of them, holding it gently.
“You working the sewers today?” she asked softly, careful to speak on his left side. He inclined his head anyway, used to compensating for it, and Tess could see the crinkled lines around his eyes in the harsh morning light.
“Yeah,” he groused. “Shoveling shit all night. Should be good for a few cards.”
She laughed, worrying a callous on his right hand. His trigger finger. “I’m doing detainee detail,” she said. “Gotta report at noon.”
Joel squeezed her hand, then released it. “Detainees are dangerous. Especially since they won’t let you arm yourself.” He went quiet, taking another slug of whiskey. “I don’t like it.”
She thread her fingers in his hair; it had gotten long. She pet through it like she was trying to calm a feral animal. “Let’s trade,” he finally said. “You take the sewers. I’ll take the detail.”
She curled her fingers against his scalp like she could leach the headache from him. “No. I can’t let you do that. Last time you did detail you took the butt of a rifle to the face.”
He jumped up, squaring off at her. “My point exactly,” he nearly shouted. He stood across from her, body vibrating with anger. He took a breath. “Better me than you.”
She shook her head, closing the gap between them. “It won’t be like that this time. Jeff is supervising. He’s less of a prick than the other guy.”
Joel huffed, his hands on his hips. “Barely.”
Tess stepped into his space, pressing a hand to his face. “Your beard’s grown out,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Trim it for you?”
She pulled out the kitchen chair and poured him another shot of whiskey. Begrudgingly, he sat down in the proffered chair and took the glass. “I promise I won’t nick you too much,” she said lightly, grabbing the flimsy hand towel and draping it around his shoulders. He hummed.
“You never do,” he said. His mouth quirked, and it was as close to gentle as Joel ever got. She washed the blade of her knife, then rubbed a little of the soapy water against Joel’s face. They’d need more cards for more soap, but she'd worry about that later.
She smoothed the edge of the knife down his face, wiping the blade on the towel with each swipe. There was more silver in his beard than there was this time last month; with all the time she spent studying his face, she would know.
“There,” she said proudly, moving the towel over his face to wipe off what was left of the soapy water. “Not exactly the spa treatment, but better than nothing.”
He caught her wrist, then surprised her by pressing his lips to her palm. “Be careful today,” he said lowly.
She squeezed his hand. “You know I will.”
--
Joel reported to the sewers at promptly four o’clock. His headache had receded to a low simmer behind his eyes, aided by the oxies and what was left of the whiskey. He stood in line with the other workers, shovel in hand. These shit FEDRA jobs always made you bring your own tools, and he and Tess had found this shovel on a smuggling run a few months back.
He got his assignment and trudged into the tunnel. When the light behind him receded, he turned on the headlamp he’d taken off a dead FEDRA officer.
Hours went by of mindless, repetitive, back-breaking labor. The bandana on his face did little to lessen the stench, but he was numb to it now. The smell had settled in the back of his mouth, ensuring the rest of the corned beef would go untouched when he got home.
Behind him, there was the wet splash of careless footsteps followed by cursing…lots of cursing. He turned toward the noise, the headlamp illuminating the space behind him.
A small slip of a girl struggled behind a wheelbarrow. It was filled with sludge and would’ve been difficult for a grown man to push, let alone her. Her face was streaked with dirt and probably shit, her hair tangled into a haphazard ponytail, tendrils falling around her face. She braced herself on the slick floor of the tunnel and pushed.
“Get that fucking light out of my face, will you?”
Joel frowned, taking another look at the girl before turning and continuing his work. He had his own wheelbarrow to fill and didn’t need the distraction.
She struggled a little more until she pushed up even with him. “Hey,” the girl said. “Where’d you get that shovel anyway?”
Joel turned in her direction, angling the light over her head. She had doe-brown eyes, shrewd in a way that little girls shouldn’t be.
“None of your business.”
She made a noise. “Well fuck you very much, then. It was just a question. Jesus.”
Joel’s mouth quirked at that, but it was dark enough that she wouldn’t see it. They worked together in silence, the wet slog of detritus filling the wheelbarrow with a sickening squelch.
“That one’s better than mine,” she said after a few moments of silence. “Fucking handle’s broken.”
Joel grunted and kept working. The light on the floor of the tunnel in front of him illuminated the girl’s shoes...worn sneakers with a hole in the toe. She needed boots for this kind of work.
“What are you doing down here, anyway? Aren’t you in school?”
She huffed. “Shitty FEDRA school. Besides, I could use the cards.” She struggled loading her broken shovel and emptying it into the overflowing wheelbarrow. “FEDRA doesn’t care if kids work as long as the job gets done.”
Joel’s jaw twitched at that. Fucking FEDRA working kids, now. He shook it off.
“What d’you need cards for, anyway? Your mom and dad don’t work?”
The girl said nothing for a moment. “I’m an orphan,” she finally said. “I take care of myself.”
Joel laid down his shovel when his wheelbarrow was full. “Use that one. Just be sure to give it back.”
He rolled his burden out of the tunnel and left the girl to finish her work alone.
When their break rolled around, he saw her stretch her back, then settle on a downed cement pillar. She didn’t drink…didn’t even have a canteen. She drew in the dirt with her finger until the whistle blew for them to return to the tunnels.
Joel caught her at the entrance. She was smaller under the fading sun and dirtier too. He shouldn’t get involved, he knew, but something tugged at him to offer her some water. So he did.
She held the canteen warily, looking at Joel as if parsing out his intentions. Then she put it to her lips and drank like it was the first sip she’d had all day.
She handed it back to him with more force than she looked capable of. “Thanks old man,” she said with a crooked smile. “Here’s your shovel.”
He took it with a questioning look. “You don’t still need it?”
She shook her head. “They moved me out of the tunnels. Need someone small to wiggle down the pipe and unclog the waterline.”
Fucking FEDRA, Joel thought to himself. That was worse than detainee detail. And this girl had worked all night and would go to school tomorrow? His face grew tight.
“Take this,” he said as he took off the headlamp and situated it on her forehead. He had to tighten the strap just so it would fit. “It’s even darker in the pipes than it is in the tunnels.”
Her face lit in a brilliant smile that didn’t belong in the world he lived in. He closed his fist.
She nodded, then turned off in the direction of the drainage ditch. He returned to the tunnel, immediately missing his headlamp. If he had to kill a FEDRA officer to get another one, then all the better.
Time blurred, and the night grew cold in the damp tunnels. He thought of the girl and her small body pressed against the sides of that pipe. He shook his head. There were worse things than infected in this world, and every now and then something happened that reminded him of that.
At the end of their shift, Joel found himself looking for her. She still had the headlamp on, but her arms were scraped and oozing red, the blood mixing with the grime and filth that covered her. She stood in line for the cards she’d earned, shifting her weight on her feet.
When she saw him she seemed to brighten despite the discomfort she must be in. She lifted a small hand in an abandoned sort of wave, then, as if thinking better of it, returned it to her side. Joel fell in line with the rest where she became lost in the miserable queue.
He earned three cards for twelve hours in the tunnels. That might get them another few cans of food and some matches, depending on what was in stock. He was gathering his tools when the girl walked up to him.
“I’m Ellie,” she said, chipper even in the wet cold. “And thanks for lamp. You were right; it was dark as fuck down there.”
Joel nodded, pointing to the abrasions on her arms. “Those worth the cards?”
She looked at them as if forgetting they were there. She needed a good bath with soap so they wouldn’t get infected, but he didn’t know her situation and didn’t pretend to.
“Just a scrape,” she said, shrugging them off. The blood had dripped down her arm and snaked between her fingers. Tough girl, Joel thought.
“Well, I’ll see you around Ellie,” Joel said, walking off toward the apartment. He doubted he would ever see her again.
When he looked back, she was still standing where he left her, looking after him in the dark.
--
Joel got to the apartment around daybreak. Tess was asleep, so he showered quickly and changed his clothes. Despite his lack of appetite, he broke off another piece of bread and pushed it into his mouth, anything to keep the hunger pangs at bay.
On the counter, there was an apple. Tess must’ve made a few cards after all.
He picked it up, ignoring the soft bruised side and marveling at its glossy red exterior. It had been so long since he’d seen one, let alone ate one.
He put it back. He would share it with Tess when she woke up, he thought. And maybe he could save a slice for the girl, if he saw her again.
He swallowed. Caring was dangerous in an uncaring world. She didn’t have any kind of future, not in the QZ. She’d end up dead or as FEDRA scum. Still, he wondered if she’d ever had an apple.
He finished the bread and poured himself a glass of water. His headache was better, thank fuck, but he popped a few oxies all the same.
He settled down as softly as he could, edging his body next to Tess’s warmth. She sighed in her sleep, then moved an arm over his chest. He covered her hand with his.
Sleep came quickly, just as the first rays of light breached the walls of the QZ.
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