The next day I was pleased to see the rain had vanished, the boiling hot sun taking its place. I got out of bed and followed the loud chopping noises coming from outside.

Leaning in the doorway I saw him standing on the dried up grass in front of the house. In his right hand he held a makeshift hatchet, carved out of stone and adorned with leather straps. His rather slender, yet muscular back glistered in the sun. I didn't expect a man of his posture capable of swinging a hatchet with such powerful swings. Little pieces of wood flew through the air the harder he chopped. I took a step towards him, only to bump clumsily into a set of damaged pots and pans stacked on top of each other.

'Don't sneak up on me like that.' He snapped at me as he threw the hatchet on the grass.

'You up for some training?' He asked while he wiped his face clean with his folded up shirt. Sweat dripped from his chest as he turned around.

'Yeah, ah- sure.' I replied with a slight stutter in my voice. I averted my gaze, hoping to land my eyes on something that wouldn't cause me to blush like a complete fool. He passed right aside me, his scent lingering in the air surrounding me. The odors of sweat and cigarettes mingled with the smells of leather and wood.

He returned wearing a clean checkered shirt, holding the green duffle bag in his hand. He placed it on the ground next to my feet.

'Stay here.' He commanded me as I watched him saunter towards the wooden crates. One by one, he placed empty glass bottles on a straight line.

'Right. So, let's start out small, okay?' He spoke as he placed a glock into my hands. Always having worked with the police, I'd seen this kind of weapon before. I remember catching myself staring at it every time they visited us at the office, wondering if it would one day be used to kill. The gun felt weighty in my rather slender hand. I held it in front of me like I've seen actors in movie hold one.

'You're doing it wrong.' He sighed as if he couldn't accept the fact I couldn't hold a gun correctly, regardless of the fact I never held one in my life. His right arm slipped over my shoulder, adjusting my hand into a correct grip.

'Now hold it firmly. I assure you, you won't break it.' He said, squeezing my hand placed on the ribbed grip. 'Close one eye, it will help you find your aim.' He said right before he took three steps away from me, assuming a safe position behind me. I could tell he didn't trust me at all. I held my breath and closed my left eye. The finger I held on the trigger was slippery on the cold metal. Nervous yet determined to hit my target, I took one last deep breath. The loud bang echoed through the sun bathed fields surrounding us, scaring a pack of crows away. I opened my eyes again. I didn't expected the sound of a gunshot to be so loud. My upper arms trembled from excitement.

'Missed.' He remarked with crossed arms. 'Again.'

Countless of tries later I felt ready to give up. It proved more difficult as I thought.

'Let's try something else.' He eventually said, fed up with my amateur shooting skills. He handed me a sniper rifle, which he carefully adjusted in my shivering hands.

'Don't be nervous.' He grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to take a few steps back.

'You see those little lines in the scope? Hover them straight over the bottle. Piece of cake.'

I gave him one last desperate look, preparing myself for yet another failure. Obeying his instructions, I noticed how I had a clearer view of my target. Thanks to my shaky hands it took me a while to get a steady aim, but once I did I couldn't hesitate anymore. With an unsure nudge, I pulled the trigger. To both our surprise, the glass bottle shattered into a thousand pieces.

'Holy shit.' He mumbled from behind me.

'I did it!' I exclaimed, my voice full of disbelief. Euphoria coursed through my veins. My brain sizzled from excitement of my personal triumph. When I turned around to face him, I couldn't help but be warmed by the proud, astonished smile on his face. The sniper rifle escaped my hands, falling on the dirt next to my feet. Unable to control this unexpected burst of heavily missed happiness, I stopped thinking. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close.

'I actually hit the damn bottle.' I mumbled next to his ear as I tightened my grasp. As I pressed my body against him, his body froze. An awkward chuckle escaped his lips, and he raised his hands so they would meet mine. After holding them for a moment, I could sense him crane his head so he could look at me. Slowly he guided them back from whey they came from.

'You still need a lot of practice.' He said, his voice hitching. He coughed and took a hesitant step away from me. 'If you want to survive by yourself, this isn't enough.'

I composed myself standing in front of him, regretting my impulsive action. It felt as if I crossed an unspoken boundary between us. It wasn't professional. I assumed that's the way he looked at our little agreement.

'Actual, living targets won't be standing still. You need to anticipate their movements. Always be prepared, always be one step ahead. Talking about cover-'

My mind drifted off, his heeding words forming a hazy mist inside my ears. All that mattered is I made the shot. I figured if I could manage this, I'd have a real chance of avoiding another situation like the one I found myself in two days ago. It made feel strong, regardless of the fact I hardly recognized myself. The idea of using a weapon that could kill always frightened me.

'Anyway that's enough for today. At least we made progress.'

Later that day I sat outside on a bench, enjoying the cool breeze floating over my sunburned skin. The radio was playing, and I sipped from my beer. Could've fooled myself into believing nothing was wrong with the world if I tried hard enough. I stared above me, at the million stars sparkling in the deep black sky.

I didn't notice when MacCready took a seat next to me.

'Sam?'

'Yeah?'

'I have to ask. What happened to you?'

This whole time he refrained himself of asking questions, but I knew this moment was unavoidable. Maybe it was the sentimental music playing in the background, maybe it was because I found beauty amidst the destruction. Maybe this should've been the right moment to cave in and explain everything. Unable to control the devastating whirlwind of emotions I fought to quell inside me, tears started pouring down my cheeks. I turned away so he wouldn't see. If anything, I wanted to be strong and confident like him. A soft sniff escaped my nose, alerting him to my tears.

'Sam, what's wrong?' He asked as he turned to look at my face. 'Don't cry.'

'I lost everyone. One day I woke up and everyone was... gone. I didn't know where to go, where to-' I heard myself ramble on and on, my voice brittle as if it was about to snap like a little twig.

'It's okay. J-just take it easy.' He whispered soothingly as he placed the palm of his hand on the back of my head. Hesitantly he pulled me close into an embrace. This compassionate, tender gesture reminded me of how much I desperately needed someone to comfort me. I never realized how much I needed to hear someone say those exact words. I placed my arms around him and laid my head to rest on his chest. While I listened to his heartbeat, my breathing slowed down, it's steady rhythm returning.

'It's okay.' He kept repeating with every stroke he landed on my hair. 'We don't have to talk about it.' He told me, not if I didn't wanted to.

Sitting there in the comfort of his secure and firm embrace, I felt the guilt seep in. Especially of the way he stopped me from crying, stopped me from slipping back into the desperate state I found myself in before he came into my life. I should've told him right then and there, but the risk of losing this feeling of safety held me back.

'I'm sorry.' I released myself from his grasp, wiping away the last tears on my cheeks. 'It's hard to explain.'

'Don't be.' He immediately replied, still looking at me with sorrow in his eyes. 'Look, don't worry okay? You can stay here as long as you need.'

'Yes.' I sniffled, 'I'd like that.' My trembling lips formed a smile, hoping he'd see how grateful I was even if I was at loss for words. He caressed my shoulder briefly before he went back inside. I stayed outside until I felt the first of many raindrops sizzling on my arm like oil on a hot plate. When I came back inside, I found him sitting at a desk.

'You're an artist?' I noticed when I saw countless of sketches lying around. Some of them were unfinished, but those that were showed real talent.

'These are good.' I complimented him, pointing at a detailed drawing of the hotel we've stayed last night.

'Thanks, I guess. Good way to kill time as any.' He replied, waving my compliment away as if he didn't believe me.

My eyes landed on a drawing that stood out from the others. A beautiful woman with long dark hair, almost as long as mine. She smiled as if she didn't had a care in the world, wearing a red summer dress that accentuated her subtle freckles on her nose and cheeks.

'Mac? Who is she?'