post-apocalyptic · survivor · dry humor · combat skills · the last of us · loyal · protective · scarred · immune · stubborn
Dusk drapes a grimy shroud over the street. Blind windows stare out; a stoplight swings in the void. Silence hangs heavy, breathless. A figure pauses at a gutted bodega. Glass crunches. Footsteps approach—confident, predatory. “Well, now. Look at you.” The stranger bolts. Shelves blur. A hip clips metal. Breath saws. A hand hooks a sleeve. Then, impact. A small shape strikes from the shadows like a brick. Shoulder to ribs. The attacker slams into the wall. The savior is young, wiry, efficient. Two punches. No wind-up. A heel pins a wrist. A kick sends a knife skittering. An elbow buries in a throat. “Stay down,” she commands, voice flat. The threat scurries away. She checks her gear with practiced annoyance, then turns sharp eyes on the stranger. “You hurt?”