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𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚

⸝⸝ ʚ 🧟‍♀️ ! ⌗ °• ━━━━━━━━━ 𝑹𝑶𝑩𝒀𝑵 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑰𝑻, 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑨 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫 𝑺𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑶𝑵.

      It was a job nobody wanted to do. Cremate the bodies of what was once a person. If not people that were seeking refuge despite a knowing infection, it was somebody they knew. Fortunately she had no ties to the child she threw into the pit, but it made it no easier.

      Wiping the sweat above her brow using her back of her gloved hand, she looked up toward the dimming sun as the burns on her skin began to settle. The afternoon sun was the worst time of day. A distict smell of burning flesh mixing with the clouds above that were not of mother nature, but rather the clouds formed from the infected bodies. But, Robyn reminded herself the end goal of the hard work.

      She would leave this place. Maybe not soon, but eventually. For the sake of her son. And for the sake of herself.

      An alarm sounded from the overhead speakers attached to the nearby light poles, signalling the end of her cremation duty shift.

      She dug her shovel into the ash of hundreds of bodies, removing the thick mask that prevented the smell of the flesh and the dust of ash from filling her system. Robyn's eyes darted around the open area. For the first time in a while, she couldn't find him among the men and women that were lining up for their rations. And although she wasn't able to find him in the crowd, she could still feel a lingering gaze on her.

      As the line moved up and people grumbled regarding the tragic amount of rations they had received for a full days labour, Robyn came face to face with the sat officer. He looked up and sighed, remembering the traumatic event that had unfolded a month earlier the last time he had given rations in this sector.

      Opening her palm, Robyn calmly waited for her payment, rocking back and forth on her heel. He retrieved her cards, placing them roughly on the table instead of her hand as he had done for everyone else. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked at the people before her who had done the same shift. Instead of the 6 rations they received, she received 3.

      "The fuck is this?"

      "Your rations."

      Her eye twitched as she leaned on the table with her ash covered hands, "you fuckin' with me? I got a whole kid to feed."

      He shrugged, leaning back in the dirty chair. A sigh was heard from one of the alleys as she leaned further forward with one hand, another snaking around her side with her fingertips barely caressing the handle of the blade.

      "Move, Cartier. You're blocking the line."

      Rotating her jaw and running her tongue along her back teeth, she smiled. Gasps echoed as her blade dug into the table, barely missing her given rations. "Next is gonna be your face if you don't give me the right amount of rations."

      The officer stood from his chair, level with Robyn as his hand moved past the blade, removing one of her rations so she was only left with two.

      Pulling the knife from the table; she found that she had created a split in the wood. She'd probably receive a few lashes for what she was about to do, or they'd kick her out from the Boston Quarantine Zone. Maybe being forced into the open area of the infected was exactly what she wanted.

      A pair of arms secured around her to prevent her from doing something irrational as she raised her blade toward the officer. The voice in her ear was familiar. "That's enough. You're gonna get yourself killed."

      As she was dragged to the dark alley the man had come from, Robyn was looking Joel Miller in the eyes for the first time since she had her newborn son. She tucked the blade back into her belt. "Fuck you think you're doing?"

      "Savin' your ass! How many more beatin's you need before you quit actin' like that?" Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. "How's your son gonna survive when you're dead?"

      She kept her eyes down on his dirty flannel shirt that had the sleeves rolled to his elbow.

      "He was about to kill you right then and there, Robyn. He was reaching for his gun."

      Robyn looked back up at him and pointed her finger in his face, "I don't need your fucking help, Joel. I haven't needed it for two decades. And I sure as hell don't need it now."

      His chest rose and fell as he opened his palm, revealing the two rations she had been given at the table. Digging into the back pocket of his rough jeans, he pulled out four more rations and added it to the pile in his other hand. Creating a total of six ration cards.

      "Perhaps you do, Robyn," Joel looked her in the eyes, tossing the rations — four of which had been his hard earned ones — on the concrete by her feet before walking away from the alley.

      Left alone as the sun began to settle behind the zone, Robyn sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She slipped it between her lips and lit it with the old lighter she had continued to use from 20 years ago. Day by day, she began to look more like her mother, and act like her too.

      Robyn inhaled deeply, before allowing the smoke to disappear among the cremation clouds. She needed to finish it quickly before her son would be sniffing her out like a tracker dog.

      By the time she reached the end, she flicked it beside the ration packets she had yet to pick up. Stomping roughly, her black boot put out the cigarette and she finally took the six ration cards in her hand. She decided to pocket them. Had it been any other day, she probably would have left them due to her stubborn nature. But, she could already imagine the smile on her son's face when she got home.

      She made her way out of the alley, six rations richer and down one cigarette. The quarantine zone's "entertainment" for the night included hanging people for their crimes. Some people found it entertaining and liked to watch. Robyn assumed that the people who stayed and watched were the ones who were done wrong.

      Her eyes drifted among the crown, spotting Joel Miller with his arms crossed and resting against his flannel covered chest. His eyes were on her long before she had even spotted him. Was this their new thing? Looking away, Robyn listened as the reasons for the four people being hung in the zone were read out. She hated to admit that Joel was right for intervening.

      The number of people hung would have been five.

      Like usual, Robyn Cartier refused to stay and engage in the scene. It was a warning to others, and when the patrolling officers looked at her while the peoples necks either snapped, or they were shot on the spot, she knew it was a warning directly for her, too. With her back turned, followed by the four sets of snaps and a struggle, she forced her way through and old, metal door that had been painted red a decade ago to make it more "homey". Hiking up a few flights of stairs, she was faced to face with home.

      Knock, she hesitated for a few moments, knock knock knock, and hesitated once more before knocking a final time. Knock.

      Scurrying could be heard from the other side. It was faint but she could still make it out through the door. After the many locks were removed, the door finally swung open to reveal a boy nearly in his mid teens, curly brown hair and eyes like her own. A smile was present as he wrapped his arms around her waist, forcing Robyn to waddle through the doorway into the home so she could shut the door behind her.

      "How's the outside?"

      Robyn scoffed, placing a kiss directly on the top of her son's hair before moving out of the hug to lock all 6 locks again. "Same old, same old. Burning the bodies of the infected. And those fuckin' fireflies. Had to cover up their graffiti again."

      Zach Cartier leaned against the nearby dining table that seated two, "have you thought that maybe they have a good cause?"

      "Ha! Nobody had a good cause in this world, sweet pea..." Robyn finished with the locks and pulled the rations from her back pocket, "catch. Put 'em in the tin for me, yeah?"

      He caught them in both of his hands, not letting any fall. He looked at them and thought of Robyn's response.

      "Aye, aye, Captain!" The fourteen year old placed them in the tin of stashed rations from the past week. "Oh, and I improved with the whole gun thing, by the way. Wanna see?"

      Robyn took a seat on the decaying sofa, smiling at her son as he fetched the pistol from one of the kitchen draws by the front door. Her hands fiddled with her tied up hair, yanking on a few strands to get the band out. "Go ahead, kiddo. Show me whatcha got!"

      She leaned forward in anticipation as Zach quickly unloaded and reloaded the gun a few times and held it up in front of him. His face was no longer as innocent as it had been a few moments ago when he opened the door for her, but rather the face of a little boy who had grown up feeling the need to protect his mother.

      The curly haired boy dropped the gun to his side, turning to Robyn with a smile, "how'd I do?"

      "Dare I say you're better than me... remember to keep your feet further away and more steady, that way you'll be more accurate. And raise the gun a little higher. Better to aim for the head."

      "Noted," Zach nodded before getting to cleaning his mess.

      Robyn watched over his actions, and in every movement her son made, she could see a little piece of Wyatt. She didn't believe in the reincarnation of people, but the two were so similar. It felt like Wyatt was back in her arms again whenever her son hugged her.

      The sun was setting much faster now that she wasn't working in the heat, and by now it was bound to be past the curfew. She was tempted to sneak out, find one or two people and knock them out for their rations. But, she made a promise to her son to be on her best behaviour during the nights after the last one a few weeks ago. The lash on her back was still fresh.

      She dished up their meal for the night. Two bowls of canned beans with a side of jerky. It wasn't exactly the most appetising thing in the world, but it was enough to get them by for the next couple of days.

      Sat at either end of the table, they ate in silence. Zach rummaged through the beans before looking up at his mother, "you're smoking again. what happened to saying it was a waste of our rations?"

      This kid, Robyn sighed. Taking a chunk out of the jerky, she responded with her mouth half full. "I'll try harder to stop. I'll quit once I'm out of this pack. Promise."

      "Can I smoke too?"

      A loud clank followed with Robyn's fork dropping against the bowl of beans. Sighing, she rubbed her hands over her face. "Absolutely not."

      She pushed away from the table, standing as she began scraping the left over beans she had in her brown, placing them in a container she had waiting on the table for tomorrow night. The slowly graying woman motioned for the boy to pass over his bowl, and he looked up at her with pleading eyes. He was hungry. They both were. But, regardless of the attempted guilt trip, her hand wrapped around the bowl and she scraped the beans in anyway.

      Robyn looked up at the clock and over to Zach, whose eyes widened knowing the words that he was about to hear. "Please! Can't I stay up tonight?"

      "Bedtime for you, sweet pea. No arguing."

      He threw his head back, a deep groan following before it spiked back up in a voice crack. Robyn had to refrain from laughing. "Do I really have to? I swear it just got dark outside!"

      With arms flung in the air as a sign of surrender, Robyn shrugged, "hey, dont look at me. If you don't sleep you won't grow big enough to take on an infected."

      Finally admitting defeat, the boy pushed out of his chair before roughly shoving it back into the table. "No way! Just this once! I'm staying up tomorrow night!"

      Once he was out of sight and in his own bed, the woman sighed and turned the lights off before making her way to her own bed that was on the wooden floor. It was just a simple stained mattress with a green sheet that the Quarantine Zone had provided her with.

      As soon as Robyn's head hit the pillow, her eyes fell heavy. Damn these fireflies and damn this quarantine zone.

      She was going to find a way out for the both of them. One way, or another.

⸝⸝ ʚ 🎮 ! ⌗ °• ━━━ '' - «❕»‧₊˚𓍯 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚
╰┈➤ uhhhh yeah guys took me almost a whole fucking year to post this dog shit LMAO. but i'm back. i made a last of us cover for someone and suddenly got inspired again idk. but because it has been so long, here's a few reminders:
• wyatt is her brother who died in the prologue
• zach is her son, who's father is currently unknown
• this fic is now based on the games with the faceclaims of the show! so i'll be watching an 11 hour gameplay for the first act.