Chapter Text
The old building stood purposefully away from the center of Boston QZ, deep in one of the dark zones where even FEDRA patrols rarely bothered to go. It looked cracked, windows dirt and broken, covered by whatever paper or fabrics available. The internal walls looked like they’d been rotting since long before Outbreak Day. They weren’t, though. Four years into apocalypse was apparently all it took for concrete and human decency to collapse completely. Every city structure was already rotting - just as people’s hope and morals.
Joel shoved the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside the last room at the end of the corridor. Tommy followed right behind him, pulling the door shut with a heavy click that echoed too loudly in the empty space.
The man sitting in the worn armchair by the window didn’t turn around right away. He’d been expecting them. The meeting had been arranged a week ago through the usual shady intermediaries.
Joel didn’t waste time with greetings.
“I was told there’s a high-paying job,” he said, voice low and flat. “That list real, or are we wasting our fucking time here?”
Only then did the man stand up and finally face them. He was older, mid-fifties maybe, dressed better than most people still managed in the QZ. His eyes moved over both brothers with clear appraisal.
“I’ve heard a lot about you two,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “The Miller brothers. Dangerous. Respected. Men who get shit done without asking too many questions. That reputation wasn’t exaggerated, I see.”
He paused, then gave a single nod.
“The payment is exactly as promised. Every item on that list. You deliver, you get it all. No shorting.”
Joel and Tommy exchanged a quick look. It was the same silent conversation they’d had a hundred times before: This smell like a setup? Could be. But that payment… We listening or walking?
Tommy stepped forward slightly, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight.
“Show us. The payment.”
The man smiled thinly and gestured toward the door. Joel and Tommy followed him out.
He gave a coded knock on the next door. The lock clicked from the inside. When it opened, three armed men stared them down — no guns raised, but the message was clear: don’t try anything.
Inside the room was everything they’d been promised. Stacks of weapons, boxes of ammo, batteries, lanterns, canned food, antibiotics, survival kits, even decent electronic parts. It was more than most people in the QZ would see in a lifetime.
“There’ll be ration cards too,” the man added. “Plenty of them.”
Joel and Tommy scanned the supplies carefully, then shared one last look.
“Alright,” Tommy said, voice rough and low. “We’ll bite. What’s the fucking mission?”
“I’m Lincoln, by the way. Follow me.”
He closed the door behind them and led them up the stairs to the next floor, stopping at the last door in the corridor. When he opened it, neither brother was prepared for what they saw.
The large room had been divided into makeshift cages, looking like a setup used for hostages or prisoners.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Lincoln said quickly, raising his hands. “We’re not torturing or kidnapping anyone. These are just… safety measures. We only use them on the dangerous ones.”
The room appeared empty at first. Joel and Tommy exchanged a confused glance.
Then they heard you.
“I’m gonna kill you, Lincoln,” you spat from the shadows, stepping into the weak light. Your hands gripped the bars so tight your knuckles were white. “I’m killing these two bastards. I swear to God, and when I finish, I’m coming back for you. I’ll take that oil you’re hoarding for the trucks and boil it. Then I’ll pour it down your fucking throat while you sleep.”
Your eyes burned with pure rage.
From where the brothers stood, you looked like a feral little thing — half their size, a beauty that’s doesn’t match your rage or the rotten QZ. More noise than real threat.
Lincoln clapped slowly, mocking. “Oh, wow. Hell of a welcome.” He turned back to the Millers with a smirk. “The job is simple. Take her to Columbus QZ and hand her over to my partner, Kevin Smith. That’s it. Deliver her alive. The rest…” He shrugged and glanced at you with a cruel laugh. “If she loses a limb or two on the way, it’s fine. She’s useless with anything physical anyway. Worst fucking shot I’ve ever seen.”
You kept your burning gaze locked on Lincoln, not a trace of fear in your face. Just raw, seething hatred.
“Columbus. Ohio,” Joel repeated, voice flat. “That’s a long fucking way.”
Lincoln nodded.
Joel turned to Tommy. “How long you figure?”
Tommy looked up at the ceiling like he was calculating distance and risk. “Thirty to thirty-five days. Minimum. That’s if nothing goes to shit.”
The brothers stepped aside. Tommy’s voice dropped low, tense.
“It’s too far, Joel. That’s deep into infected territory. And for what? Dragging some loud little bitch across half the country? This ain’t worth it.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning sharp and mean.
“Jesus Christ, Tommy. We already go halfway to Pennsylvania every other month and you’re bitching about this? The payment is fucking insane. Enough to keep us comfortable for a long time. It’s an easy job. We’ve done worse for a lot less.”
Tommy shifted uncomfortably, glancing back toward the cage where you still gripped the bars, glaring.
“She looks… I don’t know, man. She ain’t exactly built like a raider. Why the hell are they treating her like this? Caging her up, talking about her like she’s fucking livestock. Shouldn’t we at least ask—”
Joel cut him off, voice low and nasty.
“Did she look innocent to you?” He jerked his chin toward you. “Not to me. And we’re not here to play fucking detectives. We don’t ask questions. The less we know, the better. Whatever deal Lincoln’s got with this Kevin guy, whatever reason they want her in Columbus — it ain’t our problem. We get paid, we deliver. End of story.”
Tommy clenched his jaw, clearly unhappy, but he didn’t push back any further.
Joel gave him one last hard look, then turned back to Lincoln.
“Alright,” Joel said, voice flat and final. “We’ll take the job.”
Tommy exhaled through his nose but nodded once, arms still crossed tight. “Yeah. We’re in.”
Lincoln’s smile widened, satisfied. He leaned against the wall, glancing toward the cage where you still stood gripping the bars, eyes blazing with pure venom.
“Good. But let me give you one disclaimer before we shake on it.” He jerked his chin in your direction. “Don’t let the pretty face fool you. She might be useless with a gun, useless in a fight, can’t run even if her life depends on it… but the bitch is smart. Real smart.”
Lincoln’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked straight at both brothers.
“She’ll try to use it on you. She’ll talk. She’ll twist things. She’ll look for cracks and poke at them until something breaks. Don’t listen to a goddamn word she says. Don’t let her get in your head. And whatever you do… don’t get soft. Because she will try to manipulate you. Both of you.”
He paused, letting the warning sink in, then shrugged like it was nothing.
“Other than that… simple delivery. Alive. The rest is up to you.”
You let out a sharp, bitter laugh from behind the bars.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Lincoln,” you snarled, voice dripping with contempt. “Telling them not to listen to me while you keep me locked up like a fucking animal. Go ahead, boys. Listen to him. He sure is the good guy here.”
Your eyes flicked between Joel and Tommy, sharp and challenging, lips curled in a mocking smile that didn’t reach the fury burning in your gaze.
Joel didn’t even glance at you. He kept his stare locked on Lincoln.
“We’ve handled worse,” he said coldly. “She won’t be a problem.”
Tommy stayed quiet, but his jaw was tight. He stole one quick look at you — small, caged, radiating defiance like it was the only thing keeping you alive.
Lincoln clapped his hands once.
“Perfect. Then we have a deal.”
---
Night had already fallen when Joel and Tommy returned to the building.
They moved in silence, packs strapped tight to their backs. Yours was already secured on your shoulders, your wrists bound in front of you with metal cuffs. Lincoln had insisted they keep them on “just in case the little bitch gets any ideas.”
Joel led the way, you walked in the middle, and Tommy stayed close behind, both brothers’ caging you and their hands never far from their guns. They were still testing you — waiting to see how much trouble you were really going to be.
No one spoke for the first hour. The only sounds were the distant hum of FEDRA patrols carefully avoided. They moved toward a hidden exit on the edge of the QZ — a fabricated gap in the wall that only smugglers knew about.
The moment you stepped outside the QZ walls and into the ruined outskirts, you stopped dead in your tracks.
“Move,” Tommy ordered from behind you, voice low and rough.
You didn’t.
Joel turned around, walked straight back to you, and shoved you hard between the shoulder blades.
“Keep fucking walking,” he growled.
You stumbled forward a few steps, then planted your feet again.
“You’re really doing it?” you asked, voice rising with disbelief. “We’re really doing this? Are you two serious?”
They ignored you and kept moving.
You hurried after them, walking slower now, staying closer than they liked.
“I wonder what kind of putrid men agree to kidnap a woman and drag her across the country just to die on the other side,” you continued, venom in every word. “Thought I’d seen stupid men in the QZ, but apparently I missed the two biggest selfish idiots still breathing.”
Joel didn’t even look back at first.
“If they wanted you dead,” he said flatly, “they’d have much cheaper and easier ways than this.”
You let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“You dumb or just playing dumb?” you spat. “Of course they won’t just kill me. They’ll torture me first. Make me spill every last thing I know before they finish the job. For a so-called ‘skilled raider,’ you’re fucking stupid, you know that?”
Joel stopped walking so abruptly you almost collided with his back. He turned, grabbed you by the front of your jacket, and shoved you hard. You lost your balance and landed hard on your ass in the dirt.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Joel snarled, towering over you. “You keep talking like that and this trip’s gonna get real unpleasant real fast.”
“Fuck you!” you hissed up at him, eyes blazing. “You piece of shit!”
Tommy shifted uncomfortably behind you.
“Joel…” he said, voice low. “Easy, man. Don’t be too harsh on her.”
Joel slowly turned his head to look at his brother, eyes dark with irritation. Being called out — especially in front of you — clearly pissed him off.
You pushed yourself back up to your feet, brushing dirt off your clothes with cuffed hands.
“If we’re going to do this,” you said, lifting your chin, “you could at least ask my name and tell me yours. I’m a human being. The least you could do is treat me like one.”
Joel didn’t even blink. “We don’t care,” he said coldly. “You’re just cargo. And the more silent you stay, the better it’ll be for everyone.”
Tommy glanced at Joel, disapproval clear on his face. He shook his head, then spoke anyway, knowing his brother was going to hate it.
“Alright,” Tommy said, looking straight at you. “What’s your name?”
You told them your name, clear and steady.
They barely reacted. Joel didn’t even blink. Tommy just gave a small nod, like it was the most irrelevant piece of information he’d heard all week.
The complete indifference pissed you off more than anything else. It confirmed what you already suspected: they had no idea who you really were.
The silence that followed was heavy and uncomfortable. Joel was already opening his mouth, ready to snap at both of you to start walking again, when Tommy broke it.
“I’m Tommy. He’s Joel, by the way.”
Joel let out a loud, irritated sigh and shot his brother an infuriated look.
You tilted your head, a sharp little smile tugging at your lips.
“Tommy,” you repeated slowly, tasting the name. “Is it short for Thomas?”
“No,” Tommy answered flatly. “That’s my name.”
“That’s such a dumb name,” you said, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Were you mom’s favorite little baby boy? ‘Tommy’. So fucking stupid. I’m calling you Thomas from now on.”
Joel let out a low, humorless chuckle and shook his head.
“See?” he said to Tommy, not even trying to hide the smugness. “That’s what you fucking get.”
Tommy’s mouth twisted with barely contained rage. He hated that he’d tried to make this even slightly easier, and you were still acting like a brat. But what burned him even more was that you had just proven Joel right in front of him.
In one swift motion, Tommy stepped forward, grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back hard. At the same time, his other hand seized two of your fingers and twisted them viciously, just short of snapping the bones.
You screamed, sharp and raw. “You fucker!”
“You better not mistake my kindness for weakness, you little shit,” Tommy growled, voice low and dangerous, his face inches from yours, invading your space until you could smell him — surprisingly good, like sandalwood and something warmer underneath that didn’t belong on a man this cruel. Up close, you saw his face clearly for the first time: scattered freckles across his nose and cheeks, and those warm, almost sweet eyes that looked completely wrong paired with the violence he’d just shown.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Tommy says, moving even closer. “You’re gonna shut your fucking mouth. You’re gonna walk when we tell you to walk. And you’re gonna keep walking until we say stop. Got it?”
He released your hair and your fingers at the same time. You stumbled back, cradling your hand.
“You almost broke my fucking finger, you asshole!”
He smiled — slow, devilish, and full of threat. “What can I say?” he murmured, still smiling that dangerous smile. “Thomas is an asshole.” He leaned in again, voice dropping to a whisper. “And you better behave, little spitfire… because next time, Thomas will break it.”