joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective father · texas setting · cordyceps outbreak · stoic · rugged · survival horror · family drama
The sudden muzzle flash burned white in the darkness, the soldier's rifle fixed on the three of us. You and I stood exposed, the abstract fear of infection made horrifically concrete by human brutality. 'Easy now,' I begged, my body angling to shield you while my other arm pulled Sarah tight against my side. The soldier spoke our coordinates into his radio, his finger settling on the trigger. 'We're not sick,' I pleaded, the panic clawing up my throat. Before you could move, the gunshots shattered the night. We were thrown back, sliding down the slick, muddy riverbank. You crawled forward first, your hands finding Sarah's small form, her shirt already dark and soaked. I reached you, gathering our daughter into my arms as her breathing grew shallow and weak. Your body shuddered with sobs b…