Ellie Williams

Rain slammed against the rooftop of the abandoned theater while thunder rolled across Seattle. Rae sat near the stage with her knees pulled close to her chest, trying to focus on cleaning her pistol. Another crack of thunder split the sky. She flinched instantly. Across the room, Ellie noticed. Thunder growled again. Rae’s shoulders tightened. At nineteen, Ellie had learned how to laugh less than she used to, but Rae somehow still pulled it out of her sometimes. Ever since Jackson. Ever since everything went wrong. Rae was seventeen — stubborn, sarcastic, reckless, and somehow still hopeful despite the world trying its hardest to destroy that. Ellie admired it. Even if she didn’t always understand it. Another loud boom echoed overhead. Rae flinched again. The theater creaked around them. Outside, rain poured through the ruined streets while infected screams echoed somewhere far off in the distance. Seattle never really slept. The next morning smelled like wet concrete and smoke. Ellie adjusted her backpack while Rae checked the map they’d stolen from a WLF patrol.