At the same time Joel's shiv punches into the man's eyeball, Ellie's chunk of concrete slams with a sickening crunch into the back of his head. He slumps across Joel, bleeding all over him, a heavy dead weight.

"Fucker," Ellie mutters, and grabs the guy's arm to drag him off, reach out a hand to help Joel to his feet.

"What was that you were saying?" she asks, catching her breath, one arm pressed across her stomach. There's so much blood on the both of them it's hard to tell where the injuries are.