Chapter Text
Abby almost hadn’t made it to Catalina Island. Lev hadn’t at all. She didn’t even know when it happened, or how. Starvation maybe. One moment he was there, still asleep at the end of the boat. Abby was getting worried so she crawled over to wake him, but he never stirred. He was ice cold, pulse gone. It took her a moment to realize, took a moment to even believe someone so undeserving could meet such a cruel fate. It all came apart that moment, tears and coughs wracked her body as she fought for air. The sudden image of her dad came to her, this time there was no one to hold her back.
Abby almost drowned herself right there, but then everything she’d gone through-they’d gone through would’ve been for nothing. It’s not what Lev would’ve wanted. She remembered something her dad had told her, years ago when it was just him and her. You keep finding something to fight for. And she had. First it was Owen, even Mel, Manny, Nora, her friends and all the other WLF. Then it was Yara and Lev. Now they’re all gone.
As the boat reached the tip of the island, Abby let herself stumble out onto solid ground. She lay there for a moment, almost not caring about possible infected, or worse. Almost. She pulled herself up, sand falling around her, and brought herself to look at Lev. His limp body was still perched at the edge of the boat. Tears caught in her eyes as she went up to him and cradled his lifeless body. She was weak and he was heavier than she’d expected, but that was something to deal with another time. She trudged through the sand, carrying him to the nearest tree: some sort of pine. She placed him at the foot and kneeled next to him. She wished she could believe that he’d be reunited with his sister somehow, but all she saw was the harsh reality before her. His eyes still closed, she could almost convince herself he was just sleeping. She cupped his cheek and pushed his hair from his face, then finally stood. No more tears came, and she turned and left without looking back.
“Good job, Tucker!” You call as the dog takes out a stray infected. He bounds back to you, grinning, his dark fur a contrast to the sandy ground. You stand up from the bushes, smile, and give him a pet. The two of you run through the open forest and back to your camp: a small building atop a hill, barely hidden by the thin scatter of trees. You guessed it used to be some sort of power outpost from all the electrical equipment that was inside. It was perfectly secluded though, which is why you had chosen to stay there. You don’t have generators for power, but you have plenty of wood and brush for fires, and have collected a decent amount of miscellaneous supplies from other buildings. When you arrive, you set down your pack and take out the food you had foraged. It wasn’t much so you’d have to go fishing soon before the daylight was gone. Tucker trots around playfully and you can’t help but smile. Everything was so much better and brighter out here in California, far away from your old life in Seattle.
The two of you set out to go fishing. You weren’t too far from the coast so it wasn’t a long trip but you still proceeded with caution, being so close to the most likely infected ridden city. You had never entered Avalon but knew its name from maps you’d found in other clusters of buildings across the island. You hadn’t come across many infected, as most of the island’s population was probably evacuated during the Outbreak, but you could still hear the distant calls and cries during the night. When you first arrived on the island all those months ago, you had nightmares all the time. Of both the infected and possibly worse, of the people you’d left behind. As much as you worry for your family, you knew you’d meet a much worse fate if you ever went back.
Tucker runs ahead as you reach the ocean, immediately jumping into the water and splashing around. You’re out on a dock beginning to ready your fishing pole when you hear the snap of a twig from somewhere far behind. You know it’s probably nothing, just a bird or fox, but immediately stop to listen. Tucker stops splashing, sensing your caution, then immediately chases after the direction of the noise. A louder snap, and you can tell it’s not just a fox or bird. Shit you mutter, then drop your fishing pole and bolt after Tucker, careful to make as little noise as possible. “Tucker!” you hiss as you neared the dog. He had stopped, and so had the noise. You strain your ears to listen, suddenly worrying about stray infected. You start reaching for your bow, just in case.
Someone jumps you from behind, arm wrapping around your neck quickly strangling you. You claw and thrash wildly, gasping for breath. Tucker bites at the attacker’s ankle, and they loosen their grip just enough for you to escape and quickly grab your bow and notch an arrow. You can see now that it’s a woman who looks around your age, with short ragged blond hair and a weakened frame. She holds out a small knife, not much defense but she probably wasn’t expecting Tucker. He stands in front of you protectively, but calms as the woman backs up. She was staring at you like she’d recognized something, brows downturned and a tight frown on her face.
“Who are you?” You bark, arrow still trained on the attacker. The sight of another person, a real one, not the decayed inhuman creatures you’d grown so accustomed to, is a terrifying surprise and you have to fight to keep your voice steady. She doesn’t look as dangerous now though, in ragged clothes and dark bags under her eyes.
“Who are you?” You ask again, with growing urgency, after she doesn’t reply. She just stands there, knuckles paling as she grips the knife too tight.
“Fucking scar.”