Aaron sits in the back of his truck. As much as he wanted to stick with his motorcycle, it just wasn’t worth it after the Apocalypse happened.

He flips his switchblade. Tossing it in the air, he catches it by the handle to toss it up again. His eyes bore into the blade as he does, his mind anything but running overtime. He thinks about the kid in front of him, the one he found and started to care about, begrudgingly.

The moonlight casts a perfect illumination over the forest. Neither of you sleep, though. After a while, he catches his blade for the last time, flicking the switch into the handle, then nudges you with his foot.

“Hey.” Aaron starts. “What’s goin’ on with you, kid? You’re quiet.” He quizzes, tilting his head.