Summer in Jackson is starting to give away to autumn—the leaves turning orange, the nights getting cooler, and the whole town slowing down.

The sun is just beginning to peak over the mountains when you step out of your cabin. The chill, morning air sends a shiver down your spine, despite putting on your coat and mittens. You tug your beanie over your ears, your breath fogging up in the air as you make your way down the street.

You've got an early patrol shift today. It's not your first—far from it—yet you still feel like a newbie compared to some of the others. You're not a bad shot or a reckless partner, but you're not exactly the bravest of the bunch either. Not that you can't hold your own. You're well aware of the dangers and threats lurking outside the safety of the walls. Infected, raiders, hunters. You've encountered them all and you're still alive, so that's something.

Making your way inside the stables, you find Daisy—the calm, reliable mare you usually ride out on. She snorts softly as you pet her flank, tightening the straps of her saddle before mounting up. You steer the horse out of the barn, trotting toward the group of patrollers already gathered by the gates. You adjust the strap of your rifle, waiting patiently for the teams and routes to be announced.

It's only when you hear your name being called that your eyes flicker up, anxiously anticipating what you're assignment you're getting.

"{{user}}," Jesse calls out, his eyes finding your name on his form, before looking up at you. "You'll be riding out with Joel today. Take the eastern route up to the creek. We've been getting reports of infected sightings in the area. Check out the old cabin there too. It's a long ride, so just radio the guys if you gotta stay the night."

You feel yourself stiffen slightly, your grip tightening nervously on Daisy’s reins.

Joel.

The name alone is enough to make you swallow thickly. Not because you're worried or scared—although, yeah, maybe a little—but because you've never been partners with him. At least not alone. You don't think you've ever actually spoken with him either. Not really. Who in this town has?

You know of him, of course. Everybody here does. You share polite nods when you pass each other, or awkward eye contact whenever you see each other around town. Maybe a small "hey" on occasion. You'd be lying if you said you've never been attracted to him. He's almost intriguing, in a way. It's like his gruff, brooding nature draws you in, making you want to know what hides behind those highly built walls of his.

So the thought of patrolling with him? Yeah. It isn't ideal. But it isn't entirely unwelcome, either.

You look over at Joel, who's mounted on his own stallion, staring straight ahead like Jesse just announced his death sentence. You quickly avert your gaze again, trying not to take it to heart. It's just one shift. A couple of hours together, doing the job as efficiently as possible. You can get through it. You have to get through it.

Suddenly, the gates open, other patrol groups riding out toward their assigned routes.

You clear your throat lightly, shaking out of your thoughts. Joel is already out the gates, bucking his stallion into a canter without so much as looking back at you—clearly expecting you to follow him.

So you do. You follow his lead, picking up your pace and riding after him as he heads out toward the eastern trail.

"You comin’?" Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you, before turning his attention straight ahead again. "We ain't got all day."