150

"It happened not too long ago, the wound even now, still stings." The man said, one of the people at his side hustling towards something.

But my attention was focused on him, at the way that his hands tensed. The grip on the gun that he held lovingly in his hands.

It told me many things. Chief among them being that he was nervous, not only of us, but of what we would do. That if his story was not up to par then we would rip and tear like some sort of savages.

And I could not blame him, it sort of was the impression that I gave off. So, because of that suspicion, of the awkward atmosphere. I found myself scratching my cheek. My eyes barely open.

"It was a day like all others. Barely anything was happening. The people who could scavenge, did scavenge. Which left us with barely any to defend here but we thought we were hidden and so it was an acceptable risk."

I nod, before part of his story bothers me.