It's not like she hasn't watched him do it dozens of times. Watched them beg, and scream, and tried to plead with them. Watched Joel not listen. The first few times, it scared the shit out of her. Now, she can't imagine ever giving in.

Part of her, though, a deep, sad part of her, has been wishing they were done. That maybe in Jackson those days could be put behind them. Instead, she watches Joel put a bullet in this guy's brain, and closes up that part of herself that ever believes there will be peace.

Joel's hand on her shoulder hurts like hell, and his touch instantly slicks him up with blood, but she nods, barely flinching.

"I'm good," she insists, and leans down to grab a rifle from one of the corpses, an extra clip from his belt. They can't carry the extra guns, but the ammo was going to be helpful.

"Ready."