Joel didn't know what was wrong with him, but he knew it could soon become a problem. His mind was completely confused as he crept through the dark rooms of the museum, worrying about how everything could go down the drain so quickly.

The cold, soaked clothes stuck to his skin and made him shiver with every step. It felt like he was going to die.

At that moment, he might have wanted to, if it weren't for that uncertainty. It was still unclear if Ellie was alive or already with Sarah.

Abby had mentioned that she wanted to seek a cure and if he believed what you told him, it would definitely kill her. He was running out of time, but the worst part was that he didn't know how much time he had left.

"Goddamn!", cursing, he kicked a fallen bench.

The wood splintered under the force and a loud breaking sound filled the silence.

Tense, he paused and listened. Somewhere in the distance a sound could be heard, birds were chirping, but nothing gave him the impression that infected people were nearby.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his tired eyes, remembering what you had said about the group you left the Fireflies with. They had all been immune, people like Ellie.

At that moment, that claim seemed to him like a dream, as if the Messiah had come to earth a thousand times to perform a thousand miracles.

It sounded almost ridiculous, but possibly, maybe, these people were his golden ticket to getting Ellie back.
Lost in thought, he walked around another corner. His face was somber, but in his mind it was working.

Why had he never thought of this before?

Now that he knew what the Fireflies had done, it even seemed like the only realistic answer. It made no sense that the mutation occurred in only one person in the entire United States.

Even in a group of only a thousand people, more than one person would have had to show an altered response to infection. That, or something like that, is how the law of science would put it.

How stupid he had been then to think that he had deprived humanity of its only salvation to a new normal.

Just the thought of it made him angry.

Only at that moment he realized how much he had been used and manipulated to believe that a teenager was the only salvation. Yet it had been the Fireflies who had put all their eggs in one basket and lost.

Again, a flood of anger rose up in him. But this time he didn't have the chance to get upset.

Suddenly a noise tore his thoughts apart. Footsteps, fast and light-footed.

Surprised, he turned around, his weapon raised, and shone into the darkness. But when he thought he knew where the footsteps were coming from, the direction changed.

His heart began to beat wildly. It had to be a clicker, no other infected was so fast and could remain unnoticed for a long time.

But the sounds were missing.

How had he missed the sounds?

"Shit!", he growled and ducked his head to hide behind the reception counter.

He hurriedly checked how many bullets he had left. There was still a full load in the rifle and he knew there were three bullets left in the pistol.

But if he had his way, he would avoid the clicker altogether. He raised his head to see what was going on, and the footsteps suddenly stopped.

Still there was no click. Tensely, he inhaled.

Footsteps sounded again.

But when he listened more closely, they were not the same kind of footsteps. These were heavier, slower.

Tensely he listened. Suddenly the clicker was heard again. His steps were unsteady, going first forward and then back. And all at once it began to click, too. First it was very quiet, then it got louder.

A noise sounded. It sounded as if something made of metal was being dropped.

Immediately the infected picked up the direction, a loud, shrill scream left his distorted lips. Without further thought, it ran toward the direction from which it had come.

Puzzled, Joel frowned.

There was no one in the building but him and you. At least that's what he thought.

So why would a single stranger want to draw attention to themselves?

None of this made any sense.

But he shouldn't care at this moment, he was relieved that he wouldn't be the victim. And if the stranger turned out to be vicious, then he would put a bullet between his eyes.

Exhaling heavily, Joel pull his head back down and risked looking all around. Only when he was absolutely sure that the coast was clear did he stand up and walk away in the opposite direction.

But he didn't get far and a gunshot caught his attention.

Alarmed, he raised his head. His body was already turned in that direction, but his legs still hesitated.

It was stupid to go in the direction of danger. On the other hand, he wanted to know if someone had become infected. In that case, he would be able to wipe him out quickly. And the other infected one with him.

His eyes jumped through the darkness, his grip on the rifle tightened.

A sigh left his lips.

He would not be able to sleep peacefully with the conscience that the monsters were in the enclosure. And somehow he would worry too, after all he was not alone.

Your safety was also important to him, at least now. Unconsciously, his hand rested on his chest, where your hands had been when you had hugged him. Just the thought of it made his heart race.

His tongue licked over his lips as his thoughts drifted for a second, thinking of what it would have been like to surrender to that tenderness.

Maybe he had just misinterpreted it, but somehow he thought it wouldn't have been wrong. Shaking his head, he freed himself from his thoughts.

"Better safe than sorry.", he muttered, and ran in the direction from which the shot had come.

He could not have forgiven himself if the danger had taken you.