His hands on my neck - Joel Miller.

30.

It was a rare day when their timings were the same, but by some magic both spend their night doing the tasks they had. Joel left for another patrol, while Hope was helping in the hospital for the first time during the night. The snowfall blocked all the possible ways out to anyone in the city by noon, and the people had to find entertainment for themselves inside of their little, but warm homes.

-    There's some garbage in the basement, do you want to look through it? – Joel climbed the stairs up to the living room from the basement and caught her eyes on him.

-    Are you in the spring-cleaning mood? – Hope raised her eyebrow at him, noticing the dirt on men's shirt from doing something unknown to her in the basement.

-    No, I am just trying to make more space for the things I need, and remove the things we both won't need, - He was standing on the stairs between two rooms, ready to run anywhere if needed, or stay in between in some sort of peace.

-    Okay, the last time I was in there was before you moved in, - She left out one of the old books on the couch, and joined him in this complicated, but interesting task.

-    Great opportunity to remind yourself that you still have the basement, - The man grabbed her hand, and lead them both downstairs, towards the temporary darkness.

The basement could be the shelter in case if things get worse in the city. There was anything needed, the electricity, the water pipe coming from upstairs, the couch, much older than the one in the living room but still comfortable, the table where Joel kept his tools, and shelves along the walls with boxes of memories, garbage and things that were once useful.

-    Let's see, - Hope sat down on the floor in front of the shelves and picked up the box from the lower shelf.  After opening the lid, she did understand that it was the most painful, but the most memorable box. Her hands started going through the old photographs, of the relatives she once knew and their smiles forever captured in time.

-    Tell me about your past, your parents, what did they do? – Joel kept his eyes on the memories she was keeping. The box was dusty, but the things inside looked like they were made yesterday.

The humidity of the basement left some marks on it, of course, some photographs already had the defects from the time, but some had even blood on them. He looked inside the box, noticing that it was the only thing inside. It was interesting how back then people were keeping so many things for the memories, and now, if a survivor has at least one photograph from their old life, that would be a piece of luck.

-    When the accident happened I was around five, so I don't remember what they were doing exactly, but something in the labs. My mind wants me to believe they were doing something useful and good, - She kept on looking at the photographs.

A girl looked like the perfect mixture of both parents. Looking at these photographs, their family seemed like a normal, happy American family. Maybe back then this little girl was dreaming about becoming someone special, but all her hopes and dreams had to break at one painful moment. - We were moving from one place to another before finally settling in the place not so far away from here. But one day they just vanished. I was alone in the woods until one lady didn't find me, starving and freezing. This is her house. If she didn't find me that day I would've died.  She taught me everything I know, reading, cooking, and sewing up the cuts.

-    How did you learn to shoot? – Ever since that day in the woods, Joel couldn't brush this thought away from his mind. No, it wasn't distrust, more of an interest. But, living in the house where you were the only person who knew how to hold the weapon, was more peaceful for sure.

-    She was a cool lady. Francesca, her name was Francesca. Her son was older than me, and he got infected. Since then she was always keeping her pistol close. At least that's what she once told me. And she was doing some work, but I didn't have the chance to ask her what. When I turned ten, the first thing she did was teach me how to shoot. Almost the same as you did, but instead of the bottles we had the paper with a target on the tree. After a couple of tries, I shot the deer, and since then I promised myself to use my hands for good, and not for harm, - Hope looked at him, opening up the story she kept inside for so long, Now it was them two who knew this, and the concrete walls of the basement.

-    Did you break this promise? – Joel caught her eyes in eye contact, waiting for the reply that didn't matter since it was the past, but was still important to him.

-    I did, when I had to, - Hope raise her eyes at him, and without hesitation just said how it was. A long time after Francesca died, she was by herself. Of course, other people she was friendly with were no harm to her, but one thing you learn after the apocalypse is – trust is too expensive to give to everyone.

-    Why did you lie about it? – He took a deep breath, understanding that someone who he knew for a long time, just opened up from a completely different side. Joel was old enough to know the number of shit people can hide inside, but the dark past wasn't something people are proud of usually.

-    I didn't want everyone to have different stories, everybody has blood on their hands, but I didn't want it to haunt me to this day. Trust me, I shoot only when I had to, to survive, - She shrugs her shoulders feeling as if her mind and soul were lying right there in front of him naked, with no cover-up stories and lies anymore.

-    Focus right here, Hope, - He held her face in his hands, lifting it a bit up to make her look into his eyes. - If you have something I should know, or if you lie to me about anything serious, I am out of this house.

-    But you do know that I have never tied yourself to me? – A girl whispered, feeling as if the basement didn't have enough air for the both of them to breathe.

-    Yes, and that is something I was always grateful to you for, - Joel whispered back into his lips and let go of her, coming back down on the floor, and trying to focus on the other boxes that were still waiting for them on the shelf.

-    The past is haunting, isn't it? – She said to herself under a heavy breath, trying to brush off their previous conversation and come back to the sorting of the boxes as they planned.

-    Oh damn yes, - He closed his eyes for a moment, as the hardest part of his life blinked in his memory. Somewhere in his chest the man felt the pain he buried a long time ago, and had no intention of rediscovering again. - Anything you want to know about my past?

-    If there's anything else you want to let me know, sure, - A soft smile appeared on her lips, as one of the boxes with an old, long-time-ago expired food was taken out of the shelve, and started the garbage pile.

-    I did some dark shit that you already know. I killed people and infected ones, I did all I could to survive, just like all of us. Bad guys never end up good, Hope, - Joel was looking into her eyes while letting the phrase he always thought about out of his mouth. He knew karma would get him one day, but not today, maybe tomorrow, or during another fight. But not today, today, he could live, or at least pretend until the next challenge enters his life and he will have to enter survival mode again. Maybe it was an endless cycle of his personal hell.

-    You were never a bad guy in my story, - Hope looked into Joel's eyes, placing her hand on his bearded cheek. They both had a past they would love to forget about, but never felt ashamed of it.

The shelves heard enough truth for today, and the boxes stayed where they were before. But at least, some sides of the story were finally opened, and now, everything made much more sense than it did yesterday.