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She knows he’s not real. Or isn’t anymore. He’s nothing more than ash. Hopefully indiscernible
amongst the remains of the wooden tables she hid behind. The ceilings consumed eagerly by fire. No more eager than the heavy hands pinning her down. She hopes that the entire chalet is unrecognizable. Only thing remaining, a charred cleaver coated with dried blood. All the fear, the terror, the desperation buried under rubble.
But that’s all it is– hope.
She carries this ghost– his ghost– on her shoulders as she walks through the streets of Jackson.
It’s gotten worse since Tommy’s patrol group ran into some people from a settlement in Colorado. They turned down the option of living in Jackson (Thank God). Said they had plans elsewhere. Ellie knows they might not be from Silver Lake. Colorado’s a big state. But it’s the mere possibility of what if. The idea of other people, who knew David– followed him– terrifies her.
She’s the only person who knows what happened in that chalet. Ellie never said anything and Joel never pushed. Just calmly cleaned the blood off her face. Patiently waited for her to give him so much of a blink to show she was there.
Realistically, she knows there had to have been survivors. David mentioned “women and children”, and she’d only killed men. The logical side of her says that even if those settlers were from Silver Lake they aren’t here. But that reminder of the past has led to an increase in nightmares.
On good days David is merely a hangnail. An unpleasant memory. Annoying but bearable.
Today is not a good day.
Today he is in her math worksheet
He is in the cafeteria brisket.
He is in the farmhand at the stables.
Today, he is in the scars that mar her hands. The only evidence she ever held that cleaver. The fact that it slipped through her hands as it became slick with blood. The slight nicks she sustained while she caved a man’s head in. They surround the jagged scar that disrupts her palm lines. Proof of her past failure to save yet another friend from turning.
No, today he is fucking everywhere.
Ellie woke up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. Caught in a scream that was beaten out of her long ago. FEDRA soldiers didn’t tolerate screaming children.
She doesn’t even remember what it was about. Only the feeling of someone behind her. Swallowing her space and everything inside it.
He liked that shit. Being bigger than her. The way he completely enveloped her form as she crawled towards that cleaver. How easily he could pin her down. He found it amusing that she’d even attempt to struggle when he was just that fucking big.
That feeling stuck with her all day. Sometimes his weight got so heavy she could hardly breathe.
So now she sits at her desk in agriculture class (The shit they teach in Jackson is way different than FEDRA school; but boring nonetheless) trying to not not breathe when Dina passes her a note.
The eighteen months she’s been at Jackson have given her a lot. On top of food and a place to stay, she’s gotten a chemical burn, a tattoo over said burn (both of which she didn’t ask Joel about), a girlfriend who made said tattoo, and a decent amount of friends. Including Dina. Ellie gives her lungs a break while she reads the note.
Some of the teens are having a bonfire tonight, wanna come?
-D
At the ripe age of 16 and three quarters a bonfire meant only one thing– alcohol.
Fuck yes.
-E
***
The terrifying thing is that she considered it— once. While she laid on the chalet floor, head pounding; she imagined giving up. Succumbing to the pain that beckoned her to unconsciousness. Finally being able to rest.
She could have peace— in exchange for letting this man do whatever the fuck he wanted before killing and eating her. Fuck that.
So, Ellie did what she has always done. She fought.
She didn’t get to fight when it mattered though. Ellie didn’t get to fight for the cure. Fight to save Marlene from “raiders”. Didn’t fight Joel on his lies. Too afraid to fight for the truth. Too exhausted if she was being honest.
So now she fights to get through the day.
***
Ellie spends ten minutes fixing her stupid ponytail.
There were chunks of flesh in her hair after she–
Never mind.
She’s dressed in the same clothes she wore to school. Jeans, flannel, a black undershirt and her old-ass converse to match.
“Joel!” She called from her room. “I’ll be leaving in a minute!”
“Make good choices!”
“Yeah, yeah, bye!”
The evening air contained the chill of the upcoming winter. It seems all of Jackson is on edge worried about the crops, having enough food, and all the terrible things winter brings with it. Though for different reasons, she shares a similar sentiment.
Ellie hurries along towards the site when a voice knocks her out of her haze.
“Ellie!”
In front of her stands Cat, wearing black boots, jeans and a slick leather jacket. Shirt cut low to showcase the twin flower tattoos on her collarbone.
Ellie met Cat (never Catherine) Lim a couple months ago in the stables. Their hands brushed once and that was it. Cat is cool. With her tattoos and a style Joel refers to as ‘grunge’. Everyone knows her and understands that she’s that girl.
Joel thinks she’s just a friend. It’s not that Ellie feels particularly ashamed. All the other kids know. But it's different.
And yeah her and Joel have been working on not assuming each other’s feelings. But she knows she can’t tell him. Sure, he was friends with Bill and Frank; but he’s from Texas. Even in Boston her name was synonymous with the word ‘dyke’. She’s got a good thing going here and she’s not going to ruin it by being… her. Luckily, Cat carries enough pride for the both of them and isn’t insulted by Ellie’s choices.
“Hey babe. You look nice.” Ellie gathers her in a soft hug. Touch lingering.
“Aww, you do too.” Cat says elbowing her. Her expression suddenly turns mischievous. “Look what I brought!” Cat sings pulling out a mason jar of oddly colored moonshine.
“Get the fuck out, that shit is nasty looking!” Ellie says, smiling. “Where did you even get that?”
“Oh, I have my ways… now c’mon!”
***
It takes place in a small patch of woods just outside the walls, the area cleared beforehand. The wind carries notes of pine and ash. There’s around twenty kids gathered around the bonfire. Ellie immediately spots Dina and Jesse sitting together near the fire. “Hey guys!” Jesse calls.
Dina and Jesse were both her closest and only friends. Ellie and Jesse bonded over all things nerdy; the main thing being Star Wars. Ellie and Dina– well with Dina things were just different. Dina is kind and easy to talk to. Even if everything Ellie says sounds fucking stupid when it comes out her mouth. Dina just… gets her.
Cat and Ellie sit next to the two of them. “Hey guys, Cat brought moonshine.” Cat holds it up to the firelight, swirling the jar.
“Yuck, that looks frightening.” Dina says
.
“Hey that’s what I said!” Ellie exclaims, earning a light slap from Cat. “Oh, fuck off you two.”
Jesse inspects the jar, “Yeah, this looks… promising.” His face twists into a grimace after taking a swig. He pounds his chest coughing, “Whew, that is strong.”
‘Strong’ is exactly like the distraction she needs. “Sounds perfect.” Ellie decides, motioning for him to pass over the jar. Unsurprisingly, it tastes awful and there’s a texture Ellie doesn’t want to think about; but the burn eases the way her hands shake.
A black dude named Mark– or was it Mike? Whatever. Mark-Mike stands and claps his hands together. “Y’all know I’m Micah,” Okay, she was close. “And now that it’s–” He checks a watch he doesn’t have on. “Like eleven o’clock. Let’s start with a game of truth or dare.”
“Ooh, I’ll start.” A blonde girl named Cindy says. “Okay… um Jesse, truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
She squeals. “Ok ok, so what’s the deal with you and Dina?”
Jesse lets out a laugh looking over to Dina, “You wanna tell ‘em?”
“Sure, we’re back together, for good now.”
Ellie ignores how that makes her feel.
Cat whispers under her breath, “Yeah right, that’s what they said two weeks ago.” Ellie shakes her head in reply. In a louder volume Cat says, “Ugh, this is boring, Ellie, truth or dare?”
Ellie takes another swig, “Truth.”
“Damn, y’all are boring.” Mike complains earning a slap on the arm from Cindy.
People here are so country; and being around Joel doesn’t help. Ellie almost died of mortification when she let out the word “y’all” a couple of weeks ago. She’s coming to terms with the fact that Tommy will never let it go.
“You wound me, Mike.” Cat presses her hand to her head. “Okay Ellie, craziest shit you’ve seen on the road.”
“Cannibals.”
That sure sobered her up.
A cacophony of “bullshit” and “no way” rings out.
Cat turns to her. “Really?” Ellie goes stiff as a board. In less than a whisper, “Yeah.”
“So, what happened?”
Everyone turns to look at her.
“I– um, I don’t…”
She stands up. “I need some air.”
Expression softening, Cat attempts to follow.
“Alone.”
***
Ellie doesn’t get it. Why does this have so much power over her? It’s been over a year. It isn’t like this in books (or movies (though, she hasn’t seen enough to judge). The hero escapes a life-threatening situation within a mere inch of their life— and then they move on. They don’t spend the years after terrified of ghosts. Sure, she was almost murdered. Happens all the time. Eaten and raped? Not so much. But still it’s over. She’s alive and safe, so why doesn’t she feel that way?
She dwells on the almost often. One wrong move and she wouldn’t be here. A never ending list of what ifs.
What if she paid more attention and didn’t let Joel get stabbed?
What if she never shot that buck?
What if she killed David and James from the jump?
What if she couldn’t reach that cleaver?
That one keeps her awake the most. What would’ve happened if she couldn’t save herself.
After her and Joel were relatively safe she’d thought: “I’d kill myself if he’d done it.” Knowing it would somehow piss Joel off, she never said it out loud.
She’d never had thoughts like that before. In a world focused on survival it was only natural to follow that thought process. Even when Riley died, their shared promise of survival kept her from even glancing at that gun. But somehow, this creepy old guy managed to fuck her up so badly Joel’s shotgun looked more appealing than a deer.
***
Ellie quickly wipes her eyes. She just ran off not realizing her feet took her to the stables. She slinks down on the door of a sleeping horse’s pen, careful not to wake it. God, why can’t she keep it together for once? A simple get together and she says that shit?
The stable doors open.
“Ellie?”
She sniffed, “Yeah, I’m in here.”
Dina comes in with a soft smile, “Can I sit?” Ellie pats the space next to her on the dusty floor. Dina sits down sighing. “So…”
“So…” Ellie mimics wryly.
“Are you alright?”
“Just peachy keen.”
Dina lets out a hum.
“I’ve never… talked about it. I don’t know why I–” She cuts herself off.
Dina places a hand on Ellie’s knee. She smells like lavender and hay. Ellie lets out a stuttering breath through her tears. Struggling once again to simply breathe.
Dina waits until Ellie’s breathing evens out. Her presence is enough motivation. “You don’t have to talk about it with me,” Dina starts, “But you should talk to someone, maybe Joel?”
“I’m fine.” Her and Joel didn’t even talk about it when she had a fresh traumatic brain injury, why bring it up now?
Dina raises a brow.
“It was almost two years ago D.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t still affect you.”
That sure as hell wrecked her.
Her and Joel didn’t talk about things. When Tess died they kept moving forward. They didn’t bring up Henry and Sam, just buried them and kept moving forward. The same applies to Colorado. How she had to move him, heal him, and even feed him. How her small hands shook while she stitched him up in that freezing basement. They’ll bring it up but they never really talk about it. And sure he talks about Sarah now. His old life in Austin. But those are happy memories. There’s no point in burdening him with the depressing past; shit happens and they keep moving forward.
Dina notices her sniffling and offers, “How bout I walk you home? I’m not going to force you to talk to him or anything, just consider it.”
Ellie paws at her red face, then sighs. “Sure, D.”
***
Joel’s already sitting on the porch nursing a cup of coffee when she gets home.
“Hey girls.”
“Hi Joel.”
Dina lets go of Ellie’s hand. (When did they start holding hands?) “I’ll tell Cat you got home safe.”
“Thanks.” Ellie says softly.
She joins him on the porch, her back to him as she leans against the railing. Joel waits for Dina to leave before asking, “What’s wrong Kiddo?”
He’s always been too good at reading her. Sensing her quiet sadness. She sits down in the chair next to him; nose scrunching up at the smell of coffee.“Nothing, Joel.”
“Does it have to do with why you smell like alcohol?”
She ignores him.
“Somethin’ happen at the bonfire?” His face darkens, “Someone hurt you?”
For some reason his tone pisses her off. “Nothing fucking happened, okay Joel?!” Her face is dark red. Eyes bloodshot from exhaustion and unshed tears. She’s standing now, fists clenched.
“It wouldn’t matter anyways.”
Joel’s brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Unable to look at his souring expression any longer Ellie marches inside. She quickly bounds for her room, slamming the door behind her.
Ellie angrily rips off her shoes. What the fuck is her problem today? First the bonfire, now blowing up at Joel? Well, the blowing up at Joel thing isn’t new– but still!
It takes about three minutes before she hears a knock at her door. “You can come in.” She croaks.
Somehow he hears her. The door opens with a quiet creak. Joel leans against the cracked frame. He clears his throat, “You didn’t eat dinner–”
“Not hungry.”
He sighs, “Ellie.”
“What?”
He moves to sit on the bed next to her. “What’s going on with you, Kiddo?”
She doesn’t want to talk, but there is something she wants to know. Ellie fiddles with her hands.
“Y’know those people Tommy ran into a while ago? From Colorado?”
Surely he would’ve worried a bit considering he killed some people at Silver Lake, too. (She saw his knuckles, she’s not stupid.)
“What about ‘em?”
“You’re not worried?”
He squints at her, “Why would I be?”
She takes a sharp inhale of breath and stands. Fuck this. “Do we have anything to eat in the pantry?”
Obviously notified by the abrupt topic change he follows her, “Alright, now I have realized you’ve been acting a little different recently.” He tosses her a bag of granola, “Any reason you’re focusing on that part of the patrol reports?”
His purposeful obliviousness is pissing her off. He always does this shit to get her talking.
“You know why.”
“Pretend I don’t.”
She pauses.
“You’re actually right, you don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand, talk to me Kiddo.” He asks gently, “What’s got you so upset?”
Ellie aggressively wipes at her tears, fuck this. She’s tired of feeling this way, “What do you think happened in Colorado?”
After a suffocating pause, he gently says, “Something you don’t have to keep bottled up.”
She lets out a wry laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”
He considers her, “I know I haven’t been the most… open. But I’m working on that. You make me want to talk about things. About Sarah. I want that for you too.”
“But you talk about happy stuff. You don’t want to hear about depressing shit.”
“What I want doesn’t matter.”
She sighs. Where does she even start with this?
“I shot a deer.”
He hums in acknowledgement.
“And…there were these two guys that found it. The leader, his name was,” It lodges in her throat. Her voice quivers, “...David.” She distantly realizes this is the first time she’s said his name aloud.
“And he offered to trade me the penicillin for half the buck.” Ellie later realized that she was trading so much more than the deer. “We talked for a bit, he told me he was a pastor, used to be a teacher before the outbreak.” Joel notes this information as the reasoning behind her refusal to start school when they first got to Jackson. He realizes this talk is long overdue.
“But later I found out that the guys at the university, who stabbed you,” She gestures to his torso. “Were a part of his group.” Ellie continues her staring contest with the carpet, “They knew who I was. The other guy– James I think– he wanted to kill me, but David… didn’t.”
Joel tries to process what that means.
“He gave me the penicillin and let me go.” She pauses, “Well, not really though because he followed me back to the house. And brought more men.” How stupid is she? Letting them follow her, knowing they’d wanted revenge. “They shot Callus.” She tells him, even though he’d obviously been aware of the horse's lack of presence.
“I saw.” He adds gently, thinking of the carcasses he saw in the meat locker.
“Next thing I knew I woke up in a cage.”
Joel’s face greens at that.
“And I saw…” She gathers her resolve. “Joel, they fucking ate people.”
“I saw the bodies while looking for you.” He leaves out the crushing fear he felt while ensuring none of them were her.
She nods, “They wanted to eat me.”
Ellie clears her throat, “But David didn’t.” ‘Not yet,’ she thinks bitterly. “He offered me some soup– like I’d fucking eat that shit– and I kicked it away. Didn’t deter him though. He gave this long convoluted speech. Trying to convince me to be his… child bride, I guess?” She tries to pretend like those words mean nothing to her. Joel doesn’t.
“Ellie–”
Ellie knew that if she stopped talking she’d never be able to start again.
“He… touched my hand.” She interrupts.
Joel’s face sours, unspoken curses brewing in his mind.
“I played along to get the keys on his belt. Put my hand over his and broke his finger.”
Joel gives a weak “Good job”.
“Not so good. I missed and he slammed my head into the bars.” She adds wryly. “I guess it was the last straw because he told me he’d chop me into little pieces.” She swallows, “I spent hours waiting… just waiting for them to kill me.” It terrifies her. That she’d fully come to terms with being eaten; all of her condensed into a pot. Hungry mouths eager to dig in.
While waiting for death, Ellie sat in the silence of that cell thinking about all the things she’d miss out on. The list consisted of the obvious one of “making a vaccine” and arguably miniscule stuff like touching another girl’s boobs. All went down the drain because David had to feed his people.
Joel moves closer to her. She nods giving him permission to wrap his arm around her. He smells like the lemongrass soap their neighbor Ms. Susan makes. She breathes in the familiarity of his scent. It started after Silver Lake. These nonverbal requests for comfort. Yet another thing that the two of them don’t discuss out loud.
Ellie decides to continue, “Eventually, he and James came in with a cleaver. When David grabbed me, I bit him and it ended up saving me. They had me on the chopping block and I just blurted out that I was infected.” She wishes it had been a thought out plan. It was an easy conclusion to come to given her time waiting; but only in near-death situations could her brain finally work.
“When David went to check, James’ guard went down. I got him in the neck and ran.” She tries to block out the mental images of what happened next. David’s sweaty face gleaming in the light of the fire. How his pupils dilated with fervor.
“I ended up in a lodge. He followed me. I hid in the kitchen and saw some burning logs. I threw one at him and missed– that’s what started the fire.”
“Figured that was your work.”
Ellie hums, “He just kept talking, said he’d keep me, teach me, be my father.” She feels Joel stiffen at that; so she adds, “Fucking dickhead.”
“Anyways, I grabbed a knife, snuck up on him. But I was too slow, got him in the side instead of the neck. He threw me to the ground. The cleaver fell too. When I was crawling towards it, he kicked me– twice. That’s how I broke my ribs.”
She touches her side at the memory. Just one item on the never-ending list of injuries he’d left her with. Most of which she insisted on dealing with herself. Only begrudgingly accepting Joel’s help with what she couldn’t solely fix. She still remembers how his gentle hands reset her nose, careful not to agitate her any further.
“He… fuck, um…” She attempts to hide her tears, head tilted to the ceiling.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to.” Joel murmurs. Somehow his understanding compels her to continue. “No, it’s… I’m good. He got on top of me.”
With those six words she becomes a woman possessed. All of her inner thoughts tumbling out of her. Some of them so unsettling they remained buried in her subconscious for fear of admittance. “When he leaned down I thought he was going to… kiss me. But he just spoke in my ear– good God his breath really fucking stunk– while I was screaming he told me: ‘don’t be afraid, there’s no fear in love’.” She lets out a shuddering gasp, voice increasing in volume, “He told me ‘the fighting’s the part I like the most’. The building was burning down and he was still trying to…” She lets her tears fall freely.
“He ripped off the button of my jeans. Unzipped them too. I felt him– ” She stops herself. “When he went to unzip his jeans, he let go of one of my arms. I grabbed the cleaver.” The imagery of David’s mutilated face comes to mind. “I couldn’t stop swinging. Even after I knew he was dead. He didn’t even have a face anymore.” She looks Joel dead in the eye. “I don’t feel sorry at all; even though I should.”
He returns her stare, firmly grasping her hand. “You have nothing to feel sorry for.”
“You don’t understand though. It means he was right.”
“Right about what?”
“Right about me having a violent heart. Just like him.”
“Ellie, you are nothing like him. He used that phrase to justify the fact that he was a pedophile.” She flinches at the word. “But I am violent. You didn’t see what he looked like.” Her voices raises, “He didn’t have a fucking face!”
“Trust me Ellie, I would have done worse! There’s no limit on violence for men like that.” His voice softens, “He hurt you.” He looks at her with those gentle eyes and she crumbles. Ellie begins sobbing. Her sole tear turns plentiful. All of a sudden she’s fourteen again, too small and too weak. The force of her grief leaves her gasping, unable to breathe. “I fucking hate him.”
Joel embraces her as she cries, beard scratching against her face. She mumbles into his chest, repeating the words like a mantra, “I hate him so much.”
“I know, baby.” He kisses her hair, “And I’m sorry, I never asked you what happened. I was a coward, too afraid to ask. You shouldn’t have had to bear that alone.”
“I didn’t want to talk about it then. Didn’t realize I wanted to talk about it now. I just… I don't want to feel like this anymore.”
“You won’t, you have me to talk to. Or Tommy and… Maria.” He says begrudgingly, ignoring Ellie’s slight smirk over his fumble. “That girl Dina seems nice too.”
“Yeah, she is…”
“So what happened at the bonfire and how is it related to all this?”
“Ughh, I just said some stupid shit, I guess.”
He raises an eyebrow, “What kind of stupid shit?”
“Cat asked me: ‘what was the craziest shit I’ve seen on the road’ and like a dumbass I said ‘cannibals’.”
“You’re not a dumbass.”
She ignores him. “I freaked out and ran away. Dina found me in the barn.” She runs a hand over her face, “I’m so embarrassed.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, teenagers find new drama every week.”
Ellie remains unconvinced.
She changes the subject, “I guess I’ve just been stressed about those people Tommy found. You’re really not worried?”
“Ellie. I did wonder if they were from Silver Lake; but even if they are I’m not worried.” He looks her in the eyes, “Because, I will never let anyone hurt you again. If they came anywhere near here, I’d handle it.” He promises. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you in Colorado; but I’m here now.”
She opts to keep the ‘it’s fine, you got stabbed’ in her head, and lays her head on his shoulder instead.
“I know.”
***
Feeling the mood lighten, Joel moves to get up. “That reminds me, Maria dropped something off for you this morning.” He heads to the kitchen and starts rummaging through their designated “junk drawer”. He pulls out a black leather bound notebook. He hands it to her when he sits back down. “She told me she noticed something was up. You could write about things– or draw– I know you like to.”
She handles the book with care, gently thumbing through the crisp white pages. A slow grin creeps up her face. She whispers, “Fuck yeah.” She turns to Joel, “I’ll have to tell her thank you in the morning.”
“You also need to shower, you smell like booze and outside.” He playfully swats his nose, “What are y’all kids putting in that moonshine?”
Ellie stomps off towards the stairs. “Fuck off, man.”
Abruptly she stops then turns on her heel. She then quickly dives back onto the couch and wraps her arms around Joel.
“Thanks, old man.”