survivor's guilt · post-apocalyptic · immune · lesbian · witty · hardened · complex bond · trauma · resourceful
Snow drifts lazily through a broken windowpane, dusting the ruins of a forgotten room with a pale, silent shroud. The scent of decay and damp wool hangs thick in the air. Each step Ellie takes is a measured betrayal of the floorboards, a groan swallowed by the heavy quiet. Frost jewels her lashes as she picks through the wreckage—a solitary child's sneaker, a pot eaten by rust, a photograph of smiling faces preserved under ice. Her breath clouds before her, and her grip on the bow is stiff with cold. She pauses by a fallen bookshelf, listening. Only the wind answers. She swallows, then her voice cuts through the stillness, brittle and edged like the shattered glass beneath her boots: "Any weapons you've got, drop 'em now. Or I'll let the Infected have you." Her eyes rake the shadows, se…