Little Joe<br/><br/>Joe Jr. had been sitting with his granmother talking over his semester and the horrors he'd suffered. Of course he toned them down significantly as it wouldn't do to upset Gran. She was rather protective of her grand babies after all and Joe Jr. was just such a one. He'd left his handgun in the van knowing his grandmother didn't much like weapons in her home. He had always been loathed to be without it and it was safely tucked away in the glove compartment safely out of sight and definitely out of the young man's mind as he regaled her with tales of his misadventures at school. He was careful how he spun his tales. He had to be He didn't want to scare his sisters or his grandmother. He knew his father would know the parts he left out.<br/><br/>When his father asked about weapons Joe Jr. stopped mid way through a conversation and rose. He didn't even think of the gun in the glove compartment being too busy worrying about his sisters. He didn't want them hurt or his grandmother. He followed the others into the garden shed and armed himself with blade and hammer. His eyes found his youngest sister and he offered her a warm smile, his eyes promising to keep her safe.<br/><br/>"No matter what happens Izzy stay close ok," he said to her, wanting to protect her. She was the youngest and that made him extra protective of her. He regarded his father as he spoke, "Mom'll be ok dad, she's strong. She'll make it through. I know she will. And so will we. Were going to get out of here and were going to get to a safe zone. For now we just need to stay alive and get out of this," he said his voice growing stronger as he spoke. Pushing his fear away. Pushing everything away. Nothing but the fight mattered.<br/><br/>Hearing his grandfather's call from the house he headed back inside to see what was coming. His eyes growing huge at the sight of the walking heading up the path towards them. His gaze fell on their van and he shouted, "my handguns in the glovebox!" as he remembered the weapon. Cursing silently at his own stupidity for not having thought of it sooner or even brought it inside.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Adrian Clark<br/><br/>Adrian Clark was sitting on his cot in the abandoned factory where they were making camp that night. It was a secured building that the small group had found. His eyes roamed around the building fearful. He pulled out the small digital camera he'd been flipping through looking at the pictures he'd taken on there while the polaroids were spread out along the floor. Images of the walkers, images of a lot of different things. All spread out like a poster of the destruction. These images had begun to interest Adrian since he had first started this quest to evade being caught by the disease. Now he lived in fear of it drawing him into the darkness.<br/><br/>He was shaken by everything that had happened. The sawed off shot gun sat across his lap and he kept touching it absently. Silently wondering what would happen next, it was too silent. The safe zone couldn't be that safe for long could it? The group he'd been with had been steadily traveling. Heading somewhere he did not know. Right now he was just happy to have a place to call safe. Even if it was only an illusion of safety.