Tristan didn't find the Mall, the Mall found Tristan.

He was what some would call a 'Street Fox'. He had no family, no tribe- it was just him, rummaging for food and finding places to sleep in abandoned warehouses or in large garbage bins. This is how it was for most of Tristan's life until the Elders started dying and chaos began spreading. All in his childhood and most of his teenaged life he had been at peace with the ways of the city, knowing how to scrape by with just street knowledge. As soon as tribes like The Bulldogs began to pop up, with their guns and daggers, things began to get tough for him.

He was stationed in an abandoned warehouse, the same one he had been coming to for a while. He was wrapped in a couple of blankets that he had come by in his travels. He had just finished eating an unmarked can of soup which tasted like a mix between split-pea and clam chowder. Available to him was a small can of gasoline which he kept in his warehouse. With a couple of stray pieces of wood lying around, he created a little fire to warm up his meal and keep himself warm.

Tristan watched the small fire dancing in the man-made fire pit and could feel his eyelids slowly growing heavier and heavier with the passing minute. Curling up in his blankets, he gently let himself sleep. This place which he had taken shelter to over the years was safe- nobody dared to enter it. Every time he came back here to sleep, his slumber was a sound one. Waking up was always a pleasure- but not with the head of a pistol in your mouth.

Bleary eyed, he didn't put a reason behind the metal taste in his mouth until he shut his eyes tightly and reopened them. Standing in front of him were three kids, the middle one holding the gun in his mouth. All three had tattered and dirty clothing, their tribal markings looked like bloody slashes across their faces. "This is what happens when you sleep with your mouth open, stray." The middle one said, causing the other two to cackle like hyenas. "Get up!" He screamed in Tristan's face with a slight lisp. There was a metal stud pierced through his tongue and his septum.

Tristan did as he was told, the gun never leaving the inside of his mouth. His heart was pounding. What was he going to do? They began walking outside. The sunlight stung Tristan's eyes. They pushed him over; the gun leaving his mouth now was aimed toward him. "Last requests, rat?"

"I-It doesn't have to be like this…" Tristan started to shake a bit. "Can't we just-" In an instant, three gun shots went off. All three of the men fell to the ground. Tristan stood up, checking himself for any bullet wounds. He then turned on his heels and gazed at his savior.

A beautiful female, blond, with pale skin and a piercing gaze was holding a shiny 9mm in her hand. She was wearing a breast plate over her chest. A smile appeared on her face. "What? Never seen a lady with a gun before?"

Tristan forgot that he had been staring at her. He turned slightly, looking from the dead kids back to her again. "J ust a little… shocked, is all…"

She walked closer to him, looking him over. "You look fine… what we're you doing out here without protection? I'm surprised you haven't been killed in your sleep! This tribe, The Bulldogs, they are blood thirsty. I've heard stories where they've murdered for no reason. Little babies, even."

"This is my warehouse. Nobody has bothered me in years."

"You don't have a tribe?"

"My mother died when I was really young, and I've been a Street Fox ever since. I made my way around just fine without a tribe." He said, almost proudly. "I'm Tristan, by the way." He held out his hand for her.

"Niko." She said, taking it and giving it a shake. She placed her gun between a cord would around her thigh and her skin. Tristan watched her, in awe. She was too beautiful for words and she had a spirit about her which he found breathtaking.

They both stared at each other, awkwardly, for a while. He was watching the way the wind played with her blond hair, and she was watching how fascinated he was with her. What broke the silence were gunshots from around the corner. "The Bulldogs are going to realize that some of their men are missing." She noted, grabbing his hand. "Come with me, I can take you to a safe place."

From that day on, Tristan lived with the Mallrats. At first they fought about it, especially Brady, but after Amara laid down the law, they accepted him as one of them. Brady had thrown a fit and locked herself in her room for a couple of days straight.

When she grabbed his hand in that moment, she had it locked around his heart. He never knew he could feel a feeling like this, being completely head over heels with such a beautiful woman. During his days at the mall, their relationship grew. They?d wake up before sunrise and make their way up to the roof of the mall. With their legs dangling off the catwalk, they watched the sunrise in the morning- sometimes blood red and specks of purple clouds floating by, sometimes pastel pink and blue. The silence which fell over the city was the most peaceful thing he had ever experience. No gun shots, no painful cries or screaming. They could actually hear birds chirping from the woods around the city.

* * *
The afternoon after the Eco's had come to the Mall, Tristan was busy walking the streets to see if he could hear rumors from the other tribes about this new threat that was upon them. So far, there was nothing to be said. Even when he asked, people still didn't know what he was talking about. Usually this kind of news travels fast… Tristan's mind felt slightly at ease. Maybe these people wouldn't travel as far as their city. The Eco tribe was so far out in the wilderness.

As he walked down through the sewers to make sure everything was alright, he heard a noise from around the bend. With the flashlight in his hand, he shined some light over in the direction of the noise. "Who's there?" He called, slowing touching his gun with his free hand. The noise he heard almost sounded like a retching. "Hello?"

He turned the bend and saw Niko, bent on her knees, crying. The makeup on her face was smeared and she looked white as a ghost. "Tristan? I-"

Tristan took his hand off the gun and knelt down beside her. "Babe, what's the matter?"

"I didn't want to tell you… I didn't want to tell anyone. They will be so mad at me. They'll all think that I'm the one who's been stealing the food, but I swear it wasn't me…"

He wrapped his arms around her, making her rest her head against his chest. "Nobody will think anything… if you've got some kind of eating disorder, we can get through it together-"

"No, Tristan… I'm pregnant." Niko whispered, as she started to cry even harder.

"Why are you crying? This is great!" Tristan couldn't help but smile. He'd never consider being a father until that very moment. He never knew his father; he'd left his mother before he was even born. While in the city, he had watched Elders with their children, teaching them the ways of the city.

"I can't raise a child in this city…" Niko pulled herself from his embrace. "Food rations are low as it is, and I'd have to eat for two from now on. I know that little cow Brady will cry about adding another member into this tribe. It isn't safe here to raise a defenseless little child."

Tristan dried a couple of Niko's tears. "Don't you worry about a thing. I'll collect more food for you and the baby. I'll protect you both." He placed his hand on her stomach, which was slightly bloated. "Nikolett… We're going to be parents."

Niko couldn't help but smile a bit, this time her tears of sadness and worry turning to tears of hope and joy. "I'm gonna be a mom." She repeated over and over as Tristan held her close, rocking her back and forth.