A few night had passed since she had found her backpack once again. Her hand rested on the gun as she finished off another day. Her fingers were wrapped tightly against it, worried it would disappear as she slept. As her thoughts drifted, and sleep started to over come her, there was a noise of the front door downstairs opening.

She sat up quickly, aiming her gun to the door as she waited for the person's entrance. Soft footsteps made their way up to her room. She readied the gun, shrinking herself against the wall as she prepared herself.

What she didn't expect was for a male to come in with his hands up. He was clearly from Native American decent. His eyes were dark and smoldered with an inner light. They were slanted and were topped with thick, black eyebrows. He had a slight cleft chin. His jaw was strong, and led up to prominently shaped cheekbones. His nose was narrow and straight. His lips were full, and set into a slight frown of indignation.

"Woah there, Nelly. I'm not here to harm you." She narrowed her eyes at him, untrustworthiness filling her expression. She stayed silent as she watched him calculatingly. One quick move for your pockets and you're brains are blown. She thought darkly to herself.

"My name's Alex, and you are?" he tried. She glared at him, not willing to give him a word. He began to lower his hands, but a quick jerk of her gun, and he brought them back up.

"Hey, hey! Calm down! I've known you've been holed up here for at least a day now. If I really wanted to kill you, I would have already tried!" Alex reasoned, gesturing his hands out towards her. He took a step forward.

"Don't come closer!" she yelled at him. He stilled, mid-step. "How did you know I was here?"

"I was being chased by a group of guys a few nights ago. I saw this town out in the distance and decided to make a break for it. I figured I could hole up in one of the houses and hide until they gave up. Little did I know, someone was already here." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't just shoot you right here for leading those scavengers towards me? How do I know you're not with them?"

"Because I know of civilization!" he blurted out. She froze, emotion wiping the guarded mask she so carefully built. Civilization? Where there's more to just surviving? She shook her head, the void slipping back over her features.

"You're lying. That's just some fool's pipe dream. There's no way to salvage a civilization out of the hell-hole the world has become. Leave now before my trigger finger 'accidentally' twitches too hard."

"What if I can prove it to you?" Her eyes narrowed challengingly at him.

"What if you can?"

"What if I can prove it to you? Will you stop pointing that gun at me? Will you believe me enough to realize I'm not with the scavengers?" She mulled over the pros and cons. On one hand, he could be telling the truth, and actually isn't here to hurt me, and also knows about civilization. With civilization, that means I can relax and not worry about the Blights. On the other, he could pull a gun on me, and I'll be dead. She gave him a wary look.

"Where's your proof?" A beaming smile lit up his features.

"In my bag. I'm going to slowly tug it off my shoulder and show you some things," he told her as he did what he said. He slowly knelt down to the ground, his hands still raised with the book bag. He lowered the bag cautiously, unzipping it as he stared at her. His staring made her uncomfortable, but she knew it was to help her skittish nature. He looked down to pull some things out.

"Okay, I'm going to pull out a gun." She went rigid, swinging her gun back up from its slack she didn't realize she let it get to.

"Why?" she demanded. He looked back up, raising one hand while the other was still in the bag.

"Because I need a gun for self-defense. It's in the way of the items I need to pull out. I'm going to set it down on the ground." He did as he said again. Her gaze was watchful of his movements.

"Push it over to me!" she demanded. He looked up. He sighed inaudibly before doing as she told him.

"I keep telling you, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm offering you a proposition. It's easier to travel with other people, and you don't seem like you're going anywhere. Come with me, and we can both find reason in this world." She hesitated briefly, staring at him. She shook her mind free of all the hope he was contaminating it with. She hastily grabbed the gun, setting it by her side. He kept his gaze on her for a moment before shaking his head and continued to dig through his bag.

Then he pulled out two items.

One was a bright, cherry red wool scarf. It was free of grime or damage. Her eyes widened at it. It looked soft to the touch and was very clearly brand new. The fibers of the wool had yet to tug free. The other one was a picture. It was of a towering gate with at least a dozen people standing in front of it. A few guards dotted the top of the gateway.

"Where did you get these?" she demanded. Her eyes didn't leave the picture as he slid it towards her. She picked it up with shaky fingers, taking in every detail of the photo. A large corner was torn and there was a worn crease in the center showing it had been folded time and time again.

"There was a trading center due south of here. About a week or two walk. There was an older woman there who looked like she had just stepped into the apocalypse from before it happened. Her clothes were new and not at all worn. Her hair and skin were clear of dirt. She told stories of a town she had come from. It was a place called Ryseden.

"She said that Ryseden opened its arms to all who want to flee the lifestyle the apocalypse has created. They offer beds, food, work. From the way she described it, it's like it was before everything went down the toilet. So, what do you say? Feel like helping me get there?" he offered her. She glanced up at him warily before looking back down at the photograph.

"What's if it's not real?" she answered, even though the evidence stated otherwise in front of her.

"Life is short nowadays. Time is forever moving forward. No replaying, no rewinding. So take every moment as it comes. Why not give it a chance? There's nothing to lose in this day and age," he replied, smiling slyly. She grimaced as she set the photo back down and pushed it away.

"How do we get there?" she asked. His grin widened as he pointed to the back of the photo. On the back, etched in scrawly handwriting was the word Wyoming.

"I had found a map at the trading center too and asked her to mark it on the map. I had to trade her for a couple water bottles, but she still gave it to me," he explained, pulling out the map he spoke about. He unfolded it, and pointed to a black dot that had been placed in the middle of Wyoming.

"Any idea where we are?" he questioned her. "I lost track when I was being chased."

"Near the Iowa-Nebraska border," she muttered. Her eyes gazed over the short span of land on the map, wishing that's how close they really were. "It would probably take three or so weeks to get there."

"So we rest up here and leave in the morning!" he exclaimed, pulling his things back into his pack. He glanced up at the gun at her side. "Can I have my gun back?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "No. I don't trust you." He opened his mouth, his face twisted in protest. He held it open for a moment, no sound coming out. He closed it before exhaling loudly through his nose.

"All right, you win." She nodded her head, knowing either way she wasn't going to let the stranger have a weapon.

"You can, uhm, staying in the guest room, I guess? Or on the couch downstairs," she muttered, readjusting her grip on the gun uncomfortably. He grinned broadly at her.

"All right! And since you didn't respond to me before; what's your name?"

"I don't have a name." Disbelief took over his features at her words.

"Everyone has a name! You were clearly around before the apocalypse. You can't tell me yo-"

"I don't have a name," she cut him off. Her words came out harsher as she cut a glare towards him. He raised his hands.

"Fine, fine, but I will find you a name. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the warm welcome." With that, he exited the room, leaving her in peace. She laid back down, tucking his gun below her mattress. She rested her eyes towards the door, gripping her weapon tighter than before towards her body.

"This room is shit!" She heard him yell from the guest room. A small, amused smiled twitched its way on to her lips. He stomped past her room, muttering something under his breath as he descended the stairs. Maybe he won't be so bad after all.

~~~~~~~

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Jordyn for making such an amazing edit/trailer for me. Thanks so much, love!
Coral_G_Swizzle