The two stood at the back of the truck, Caelan watching as Dusty dug around. It was obvious he knew the truck like the back of his hand. Nothing had been that consistent in his own life since the sickness plagued the earth. Well, maybe his apartment, but he hadn’t been able to drive that around town on four wheels. Even his relationship with his dirt bike was blatantly different than Dusty and his truck.<br/><br/>The box of ammo was relatively small. It fit fine in the palm of his hand, the weight unexplainably comforting. He shook out six bullets into his other palm and slid the box into his pocket. His nerves were firing on all cylinders as he loaded each individual bullet into the chamber. Six opportunities to shoot himself in the foot, or the knee, or the thigh. But, he did as Dusty requested, at least for now. He returned the gun to the holster, the weight only slightly heavier now that it had a loaded belly.<br/><br/>Caelan stood by as Dusty yanked a cooler forward and revealed a bounty. If that was what it could be called. He took a step forward and peered inside, shaking his head with a smile. “Thank god you decided to teach Shooting 101 before getting me drunk.” Caelan grabbed a beer and climbed onto the tailgate, legs crossed. He peered down at his hip, glancing beneath his shirt to make sure his new friend was minding itself. Caelan opened the beer and took a drink. The stout was slightly cool against his tongue, which was remarkable in the Louisiana heat.<br/><br/>He took another sip and set it down beside him, his curiosity getting the better of him. Caelan fished the foil packet out of the cooler and shut the lid. “What is this?” He glanced up at Dusty before opening the thing, the smell of spices exciting him. “Is this… catfish?” Caelan would have moaned had it not been improper. “Part of me thinks that you had this whole thing planned out.” He selected one of the pieces and offered the selection to Dusty. “Or were you going to sit out here and eat catfish and drink alone?”<br/><br/>He leaned back against the rim of the truck, holding the beer loose in his hand. “You know what I miss?” Caelan smiled to himself as he thought about it. “Gummy worms.” He chuckled, knowing his response was probably stupid, but it held its truth. “Ginger ale.<i>With </i>fizz.” Most of the carbonated drinks had long since become flat in the years since the warehouses all but closed. “Electricity. Hot coffee with cream made for me by someone else." Caelan sighed as he picked off a piece of the catfish and chewed on it. "I miss people. I miss being able to walk outside with the trust that everyone who approaches me isn't hell bent on ending my life. Turns out I ended up thinking that way, anyway." He ate another piece of fish. The breading was light and the catfish was flaky in his mouth. "This is delicious, D. Canned chili pales in comparison." If only Caelan could make this degree of a delicacy in his own kitchen. "Should I expect to be picked up in the next couple of weeks for a fishing lesson?"<br/><br/>Caelan smiled small and finished his piece.