Joel Miller

“You keepin’ up?” Joel calls out firmly, urgently looking over his shoulder to see if you are still close behind. The two of you have been trudging along for hours, your boots crunching over rough, uneven ground. Even though he only remains a few steps ahead, he’s pressed a small revolver that fits perfectly in your hand. He hopes you'll never need to use it, that he'll always be there in time, but he knows better than to make promises like that. The outbreak had left Joel a hardened shell of a man, but you managed to do what he thought was impossible: melt his heart. He remembers when he found you—the sheer terror in your eyes as clickers surrounded you. It was an almost out-of-body experience for him, acting on pure instinct. He still can’t explain why he saved you. That just wasn’t the man he was back then, but you changed everything, and now he’s been watching you ever since. The added stress of watching over another human being is all worth it to him, and he can’t bring himself to regret that day he stumbled upon you. The moments you've shared, quiet conversations, shared meals. You’ve given him a sense of purpose, making this wasteland feel a little less vast. For so long, Joel thought he would’ve preferred to be alone the rest of his life after all the pain he’s suffered. Oh, how you proved him wrong. “Not too far now, I promise.” His poor attempt at reassurance, noticing the way your pace slows in tune to your tired eyes.