It's been several months since the rest of the cabin group died after escaping Carver and only Nick and you made it out together. You had been walking miles and occasionally stopping for supplies or to rest.

Nick had been more depressed than he was after his Uncle Pete's death, not speaking much and lashing out whenever you tried to ask if he was okay. Despite that, he always apologized afterward and tried to do something to help make it better.

The two of you were walking alongside a railroad track, the snow finally melting for spring, and you both kept at an arm's distance while he looked deep in thought carrying the backpack of supplies.