Survivor Steve

Survivor Tim

So yeah, killed some zombies, got some food, went to find a tree to sleep in. Zombies haven't figured out how to climb trees, so I'm pretty safe. I can hear them coming in my sleep from a long while away anyway. Everything is pretty normal for the most part until sometime early the next morning, when I hear a thudding noise and the tree I was in shook with each thud. I became suddenly alert and got up a little quickly and fell from the branch I had been sleeping and landed on my back. I was trying to get up when someone pinned me down and held an ax over my head. Instinctively I grabbed my knife I kept on my belt and held it to my aggressor's throat.

"I suggest you get off me before I slit your throat," I said, almost growling. The aggressor's face was hidden by a cloth so I couldn't really make out an expression, but they nevertheless lowered their ax and got off of me. I stood, sheathing my knife and brushed myself off. The stranger, who I knew to be a man now, looked at me slightly baffled.

"Are you gonna try to kill me again or can we go our separate ways in peace?" I asked somewhat grumpily.

"Steve?" The stranger asked. I looked at him wearily.

"Yeah, that's me. Have we met?" I asked, gathering up my things that fell out of the tree with me.

"It's me, Tim," He said, taking off the cloth to reveal his face. I looked at him, not sure about how I felt about him still being alive.

"Two years Tim. Two years. How do I know you are the same person," I asked.

"I'm not the same. And neither are you," Tim said.

"So are you here by yourself, or did anyone else survive," I asked, fitting everything into my pack and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, um she's in Flagstaff bartering for lumber," Tim said nervously.

"Then let's go see if we can't help," I said, heading back towards the lumber town.