With their breaths held and their head hanging low, Joel and tommy made their way through the workshop.

The walls were blank, many winters and the tooth of time had left their marks. Cracks danced through the plane concrete, making the building seem a lot older than it actually was.

"Think somebody lives here?", Tommy asked in a whispering voice.

Joel shrugged his shoulders.

"Doesn't look like it. Was too cold here. And empty.", he raised his head to listen carefully. "I can hear something moving. Somebody must be here."

"A trespasser?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But it doesn't sound like it. Whoever is here knows where things are. They are working on something."

Tommy pulled a face and pushed past his brother to throw a gaze around a corner.

"I can see light.", he said. "And a shadow."

Joel positioned himself next to his little brother, one hand on his shoulder to prevent him from storming right into danger. He had a bad habit of doing so, without thinking about the consequences.

"How many do you think there are?", Joel asked and took a look for himself.

"Just one. Pretty sure about that."

"Hm. Let's take a look then.", Joel got up, the riffle lowered. "I'll go first."

But tommy jumped up and held him back.

"Are you crazy? What if they are dangerous?", he hissed.

But Joel shook his hand off and slowly moved towards the light.

"It will be fine, Tommy. I'm armed. Just give me backup."

"They will be armed as well."

"How do you want to know?"

A laugh escaped Tommy.

"Fucking Christ, Joel. Have you gone mad?", he asked his brother with an expression of shock. "They will attack you. Since when are you this careless?"

"Tommy.", Joel turned to him, a grim expression on his face. "Just for once, I'd like to meet somebody without fighting or killing them. Just once. Maybe they will be of help."

"Ha! Yeah sure. They will help us. With a bullet in our heads.", he mumbled but didn't hold him back as Joel stepped out of the shadows and into the illuminated workshop.

The first thing he noticed was a car. A really old car, so old that it appeared to be useless.

Copper and rust mixed on top of the surface, the windows were busted and the tires looked as stiff as stone. They even began to crack a little.

But the engine seemed to be in good condition. Somebody had been working on it not long ago.

With his weapon lowered, Joel stepped further into the hall. His eyes jumped from one corner to another, looking out for something or rather someone.

Out of the corner of his eyes he was able to see Tommy still sitting in the edge of the shadows. His hands were holding onto his gun, the finger already resting on the trigger.

Joel locked eyes with him and shook his head as to say he was supposed to keep calm.

But Tommy refused to listen and kept his position unchanged.

A sigh left Joel's lips, but he was willing to start a fight over a minor inconvenience. Not right now, at least.

Silence filled the air. Outside, the storm was raging and the sound of ice hitting the windows reached his ears.

"Hello?", Joel let his eyes wander through the workshop again. "Somebody here?"

Silence.

As he was standing on the middle of the hall, right next to the car, his eyes spotted a chair. It was an old chair, made to fold and for camping.

Time had made it look old and damaged, but it still served its purpose. As he raised his head, something else appeared.

His heart jumped in surprise, his finger twitched and he had to force himself not to grab his weapon.

With a calm, almost unbothered expression on your face, you sat there, in this old camping chair and nipped on the last sip of coffee that was still steaming inside your cup.

Your eyes rose and met his gaze.

Hazel brown mixed with the shimmering (E/C) of yours.

You swallowed slowly, not letting your eyes leave him. Then, you placed the cup next to you and leaned back.

"Who are you?", you asked in a calm voice while your gaze traveled further down to check him out.

He was a man in his mid forties, maybe late forties, with dark brown hair that was already showing a hint of silver at the sides.

His sharp face was framed by a thick beard, also brown with light edges at the bottom. His face was wrinkly, tired but not old yet. The way he looked showed he was mature, with lots of experience in this messy world.

The way he was standing made him seem strong yet not threatening. He was tall, but not gigantic.

But what was the most important part about him was the riffle hanging over his shoulder. He had his arm laying over it, pressing the barrel down to make it seem like it was nothing to worry about.

But you knew this way of carrying a weapon. One swift movement and he would be able to shoot you in the face.

The thought made your shoulders tense. Your grip around the knife in your pocket tightened.

But you knew a knife would he useless against a gun.

Joel raised his arms, to show that he was not trying anything funny.

"My name is Joel.", he introduced himself and wanted to shake hands.

You just looked at the outstretched hand. A short laugh escaped you.

"You must be pretty naiv to shake hands with a stranger.", you said and let your eyes jump over to the shadows for a moment. "Tell your friend to show himself. I don't like people lurking around."

Surprised, Joel threw a gaze over his shoulder and silently told Tommy to come out.

"How did you notice me?", Tommy asked, slightly impressed.

You shrugged.

"Shadows don't move. And they don't have eyes.", you said and looked him up and down. "Are you from the city nearby? What's it called? Jackson?"

"You know Jackson?", Joel asked, surprised that it seemed so easy to find out.

You nodded.

"So...", you leaned back on your chair, arms crossed in front of your chest. "What are you doing here?"