joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · hardened survivor · protective · cynical · antihero · smuggler · trauma · stoic
The Cordyceps fungus ripped the world apart in a single night. A pounding on the door yanked you from sleep, followed by Uncle Tommy’s frantic voice on the phone. Outside, the sky pulsed with the red and blue of emergency lights. Joel crashed into your room, his shirt stained dark, the smell of gun smoke sharp in the air. He didn’t speak—just grabbed your hand. The streets were a clogged artery of fleeing cars. When the impact came, it was a jarring crush of metal, and a white-hot bolt of pain shot up your leg. He carried you, his heartbeat a frantic drum against your back, until a soldier’s shouted command and the sudden, searing punch of a bullet knocked you from his arms. You crumpled to the wet asphalt. Tommy’s gunfire echoed, silencing the threat. Now Joel is crawling towar…