Surviving The Last of Us With My System

Elliot gritted his teeth as he ran, his breathing heavy but controlled. The sound of the infected behind them was deafening: deep grunts, shrieks, and the constant clatter of their messy footsteps on the pavement. Manny panted beside him, his forehead beaded with sweat and his eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Why am I always the one following your crazy ideas?" Manny muttered, not stopping.

"Because my ideas work," Elliot replied, turning his head to look at the group following them. His eyes fell on the clickers in front, their warped heads turning erratically as they made terrifying clicking sounds. "Or so I hope."

To the right, a narrow alley appeared as an escape route. It was dark and littered, but narrow. The infected would have to file in, slowing them down just enough to buy them some time. Elliot pointed to the spot quickly. "Over there! Abby, you two head toward the road. We'll catch up!"

Abby, who was a few feet ahead with Owen and Mel, paused briefly, looking down the alley. Her eyes met Elliot's, filled with doubt and something else, a mix of concern and grudging respect. Finally, she nodded. "Don't die, you idiot!" she yelled at him before continuing to run with the rest of the group.

Elliot and Manny turned sharply toward the alley, the sound of the infected rumbling ever closer.

"You sure about this?" Manny asked, his voice a little shaky. "I'm out of bullets, motherfucker! Are you?"

Elliot snorted, gripping the machete still dripping with blood tightly. "Don't be a little girl, Manny. We're going to tear them to pieces." He then turned towards the infected, raising the machete into the air as he screamed at the top of his lungs, "This way, motherfuckers! Come and get us!"

The scream echoed through the alley, drawing the immediate attention of the infected. The clickers in front spun their bodies towards them, emitting a deafening click before launching themselves in their direction. The runners followed close behind, their frantic movements making them look like an uncontrolled tide of flesh and fury.

Elliot and Manny ran to the end of the alley, where a dumpster partially blocked the path. Elliot stopped abruptly, turning towards the infected as Manny gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Now what? We kill each other together like good friends?" Manny asked, his voice laced with sarcasm and fear.

Elliot ignored him, his eyes focused on the rapidly approaching infected. "Them first. We talk later."

The first runner came leaping, his hands outstretched towards Elliot. Elliot didn't hesitate; with one precise movement, he raised the machete and plunged it into the creature's chest. The force of the impact sent the infected tumbling backwards, but Elliot didn't have time to celebrate. Another runner immediately appeared, lunging at him.

Elliot spun on his heels and slammed the infected with the machete handle, pushing him towards Manny, who screamed as he grabbed him and threw him into the dumpster.

"You're like roaches!" Manny growled, grabbing a broken brick from the ground and smashing it into the infected's head.

The clickers weren't far away. Elliot heard them before he saw them, the distinctive clicking noise filling the alley. When the first one appeared, its deformed head swinging like a broken antenna, Elliot gulped.

"Manny, cover me!" he screamed as he lunged at the clicker with his machete.

"Cover…?" Manny started to protest, but didn't have time to finish. Another racer appeared behind Elliot, forcing him to use his bare hands to hit him. With a scream, Manny grabbed a rusty metal pipe from the ground and used it to hit the racer in the back. "I'm covering you, you idiot!"

Elliot, meanwhile, dodged the clicker's attack, which tried to bite him. He turned to the side and used the machete to cut deeply into the creature's arm. It growled, staggering for a moment before turning back to him.

"You're going to die, you ugly son of a bitch!" Elliot growled, driving the machete into the clicker's skull with all his strength. The creature went still before collapsing to the ground.

There was more. The infected continued to enter the alley, though they seemed to arrive at longer intervals now. Elliot and Manny, covered in blood and panting, exchanged quick glances.

"Plan B?" Manny asked, his hands shaking as he lifted the metal pipe again.

Elliot grinned, showing bloody teeth. "Yeah. Run like hell."

They both turned and began running toward the other end of the alley, where a fire escape hung from the second floor of a building. Elliot jumped first, grabbing the edge of the ladder and climbing up with all his might. Manny followed close behind, huffing and puffing with each step.

The infected tried to follow, some climbing over the dumpster, but Elliot wasted no time. When Manny reached the top, Elliot raised the machete and cut through the supports of the ladder, sending it crashing to the ground with a clang. The infected were trapped below, jumping uselessly toward them.

"That was close," Manny said, leaning on his knees to catch his breath.

Elliot, still holding his bloody machete, looked down at the infected below. "Yeah, too close. Come on, we have to catch up to the others."

-x.X.x-

Elliot walked beside Manny, his heavy footsteps echoing on the empty street as his mind was a chaos of thoughts. He held the bloody machete tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure.

"How the hell did they take Leah?" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Manny, though his partner heard him clearly.

The memory of the cannibals invading the house and the frantic struggle was still fresh. Images of the twisted bodies and wounded Jordan on the floor haunted him, but what bothered him most was Leah's disappearance. Not because he really cared—at least, that's what he told himself—but because it complicated his plans. He had intended to get closer to her, to play his cards patiently. Now, with Jordan out of the fight and Leah in the hands of those bastards, everything had become complicated.

But another part of him, a more human one, felt uneasy. Though he hated to admit it, he was starting to feel something strange about the group, a faint trace of camaraderie that he wasn't sure he wanted to explore.

Elliot shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts. "Nevermind," he finally said, his voice low and raspy. "All that matters is that we need to find Leah and make sure those bastards pay."

Manny, who was walking a few steps ahead of him, let out a tired huff, his hands still gripping the metal pipe he'd used during the fight. "Yeah, right," he replied without looking at him. "Because it sure will be easy to take on a bunch of psychos with guns and vehicles, right?"

Elliot didn't answer right away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. The street was littered with debris and abandoned cars, some with their doors open, others overturned as if they'd been dragged into the middle of chaos. The silence was eerie, broken only by their footsteps and the occasional crunch of glass beneath their boots.

Finally, Manny broke the silence, his tone more serious. "Damn… I wonder where the fuck they took Leah. They had vehicles, probably a camp nearby. We can't let them get away."

Elliot glanced at him, noticing the tenseness in his jaw and the determined look in his eyes. Manny might be a clown most of the time, but when it came to protecting his own, he knew how to get serious.

"We'll find Leah," Elliot said in a firmer tone. "And when we do, I'll make sure every single one of those fuckers suffers before they die."

Manny raised an eyebrow, surprised by the intensity of his words. "Fuck, man. I didn't know you cared that much."

Elliot shrugged, looking away. "It's not about me. It's about us not letting anyone think they can screw us over like that. If we let them get away with it, they'll try again, and next time it won't just be Leah."

Manny nodded slowly, accepting her logic. "You're right," he said after a moment. "But first we need to find the rest. Where the hell did the girls and Owen go? I hope they're okay."

"If they're smart, they'll have hidden themselves nearby," Elliot replied, though there was a trace of doubt in his voice. "Mel wouldn't let Abby make a stupid decision."

The path out of town had led them to a worn road that still gleamed faintly in the afternoon light, reflecting the orange and gold hues the sun cast on the cracked asphalt. All around them, the remains of rusted vehicles and ruined buildings reminded them of the state of the world. The warm breeze of the day made the air feel heavier, and fatigue was beginning to become apparent with each step they took.

Elliot and Manny moved forward in silence, alert for any movement. Their backpacks, loaded with everything they had managed to salvage, were an extra weight that both of them bore without complaint. As they reached a small clear stretch, they spotted the old gas station that was barely standing. It was a worn-out structure, with walls covered in faded graffiti and broken windows that let in daylight.

A low, high-pitched whistle broke the silence, and they both turned instinctively, guns at the ready. A few feet away, Owen was waving at them from the entrance of the gas station. He was covered in sweat and dust, but his expression was one of relief at seeing them.

"There they are," Manny said, letting out a sigh of relief as he relaxed slightly.

Elliot, for his part, kept a more cautious look. Even as they approached Owen, his mind kept analyzing every possible threat. Paranoia or not, he knew that in this world, letting down his guard was the quickest way to end up dead.

When they reached the entrance, Owen gave them a brief handshake, first Manny's, then Elliot's. "I thought you weren't going to make it," he said, his tone a mix of worry and exhaustion.

Elliot let out a dry laugh and let his machete fall to the ground for a moment to rest his arms. "No one can beat us," he replied with a smug grin, though his gaze was already moving around the place. "How's Jordan? Where are the others?"

Owen pointed toward the back of the gas station. "Abby found a little workshop back there. It's a lot safer than this part. Mel and Nora are with Jordan, trying to keep him stable."

Elliot nodded, his expression hardening. "Stable? Does that mean he's going to live or that he's dying slower?"

"It means they're doing what they can," Owen replied firmly, clearly irritated. "But we need antibiotics, and we don't have them."

"Great," Elliot muttered, gritting his teeth as he picked up his machete again. "Because we're short on resources and time right now, right?"

Before Owen could respond, Manny stepped in, throwing up his hands. "Enough. We're here now. Let's see what we need to do, but arguing isn't going to help anyone."

Owen nodded, though his expression remained tense. "Come on. I'll take you with them."

The three of them headed toward the back of the gas station. The rusty metal door Owen forcefully pushed through led them to a small workshop. Despite its state of abandonment, the place seemed to have stood the test of time better than other nearby structures. There were shelves full of old tools, covered in dust and grease, and a couple of wrecked cars taking up most of the space. The afternoon light streamed in through some cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the scene with a warm glow.

In one corner, on a makeshift bench made of wood and blankets, lay Jordan, pale-faced and breathing heavily. One hand pressed the bandage across his abdomen, while Mel and Nora worked frantically around him. The former cleaned what she could with rationed water and disinfectant, while the latter checked his pulse and tried to remain calm.

Mel looked up as soon as she saw them enter, and a look of relief crossed her face. "They did it," she said with a small smile, though her voice was heavy with fatigue.

Elliot nodded, walking over to them. "How is he?" he asked, leaning down to look at Jordan's wound without much real interest.

"Stable, for now," Nora replied without looking away from her task. "But the bullet did a lot of damage. We need antibiotics soon, or he won't make it through the night."

Elliot crossed his arms, looking at Jordan with a mix of indifference and barely concealed contempt. "Perfect. Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere with a potential death."

"Shut up, Elliot," Abby interrupted from the other side of the workshop, arms crossed and a cold stare. "Jordan's not going to die because you gave up. If you don't have anything useful to say, you might as well keep your mouth shut."

Elliot turned his head to her with a sarcastic smile. "Oh, right, Abby. Because I'm sure you have a brilliant plan that will save us all. Or are you just going to keep winging it like always?"

Abby took a step toward him, her eyes burning with fury. "Do you have any idea what we've been through to keep this group alive? If you want to get out, get out. Just don't you dare fuck up what little we have left."

Before the argument could escalate, Mel stepped between them, placing a hand on Elliot's chest. "That's enough," she said, her tone soft but firm. "This isn't going to help Jordan, or anyone."

Elliot took a deep breath and looked away, his jaw set. "Fine," he muttered, taking a step back. "But if those fuckers come back, we better be ready to fight."

Owen, trying to calm the waters, spoke up from the back. "We need a plan," he said. "We can't stay here much longer, but moving Jordan now would be suicide."

The group fell silent though, tension palpable in the air as soft knocks and footsteps echoed outside the workshop. Each sound seemed amplified by the stillness of the surroundings, causing each member of the group to grip their makeshift weapons tighter. None had enough bullets for a prolonged fight, but machetes, metal pipes, and knives were at the ready.

"Stay with me, Elliot," Owen whispered, motioning for her to follow him through a small broken window that led outside.

As quietly as possible, the two of them stepped out and around the gas station. The evening air, still warm, seemed heavier with the latent threat. They moved carefully, each step measured so as not to make noise, until the muffled voices became clearer.

"Are you sure they went this way?" said a young voice, shaky but determined.

"Yes, I'm sure," another voice answered, this time a girl's, as she struggled with the back door.

Elliot and Owen exchanged a glance. The situation was unexpected, but no less dangerous. Finally, they both stepped out of hiding at the same time, keeping their hands raised so as not to frighten whoever was there too much.

"Tell me you're not here to hunt us," Elliot said, his tone sarcastic but low, his eyes fixed on the two young men in front of him.

Both children jumped, turning to them immediately. The eldest, a girl with curly hair and fierce eyes, raised a gun with hands that could barely hold it steady. The boy, smaller and clearly more nervous, stood frozen beside her, clutching a rusty knife.

Elliot had to suppress a smile. The situation, while potentially dangerous, had a ridiculous edge to it. "Really, a gun? Do you guys even know how to use it?"

The girl, without lowering the gun, spat out the words with more courage than her appearance suggested. "We have the gun here, not you."

Owen calmly raised his hands, trying to reason. "But you're not older than 14," he said, his voice full of disbelief.

The boy lifted his chin, trying to look braver than he felt. "Hey, I'm 13."

"And I'm 14!" the girl added, her tone almost defiant. "We're not stupid."

Elliot rolled his eyes, but kept his expression relaxed. "You may not be stupid, but you're naive if you think we're not ready for something like this."

The girl didn't answer right away, her jaw clenched as she tried to keep the gun pointed. Elliot noticed, though, how her eyes began to shift nervously, as if searching for a way out. The tension rose, and for an instant, everything hung in suspension.

The back door of the shop swung open, and Abby appeared with Manny behind her. Before the kids could react, Manny disarmed the girl, snatching the gun from her in one swift movement, while Abby held the boy down with ease.

"What the hell...?" Abby muttered as she watched the two young men, now immobilized and clearly frightened.

"You guys alone?" Owen asked, slowly lowering his hands as he watched the kids with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

The girl tried to resist, but Abby held her firm. "We're not a threat! We were just looking for food and a safe place!"

"How did you get here with him?" Elliot asked, pointing at the boy with a shake of his head.

"He's my brother," the girl replied in a defensive tone, her gaze still defiant despite being at a disadvantage. "We've been on the run for weeks."

Abby sighed, relaxing her grip slightly. "And you thought we would attack two children?"

"Can we trust you?" the boy asked in a weaker voice, his eyes now filled with fear. "You all want to kill us or worse."

The hardness in Elliot's expression softened for a moment at those words. Even if he didn't show it, he could understand the terror behind that voice. He had felt something similar when he first came into this world.

"Look," Manny finally said, lowering his tone. "No one is going to kill you. But you have to be honest with us if you want help."

Elliot watched as the children exchanged a quick glance before nodding slowly. "For now," he muttered, more to himself than to the group. "For now, you'll be Abby's problem."

Abby shot Elliot a glare before turning back to the children. "Come in. We'll talk about this inside."

End of Chapter 18.