The boy came outside, to Jack's relief, however he noted that he was still quite tense and had a hand at his side. For a moment Jack wasn't sure why, but then he looked down at his own hands and realized he was still holding his own Remington closely. Keeping his eyes on the buy and his demeanor as friendly as possible, he set the shotgun down on the small outdoor picnic table to his side. He then slowly pulled out his pistol and emptied the contents of the chamber, five bullets (three missing from his encounter with the walker), onto the table, before replacing his revolver in the holster. 

From there, he turned his attentions back fully to the kid. He looked about the age Jack had guessed - eighteen, maybe nineteen - and seemed to be in fairly good health. After a year of the world they lived in, the congressman also assumed that he was fairly adept with his own gun, and Jack was putting himself at quite a risk disarming himself. 
"Glad this didn't end in some kind of firefight. I'll get that fire going, just need to get my lighter," he gestured over to the small woodpile he had collected when he arrived. "Feel free to start putting some of that in the fire-pit if you're up to it." With that, he started inside to grab his things, which had been under the sink as he told the kid. However he was nearly to the door when he saw a figure just inside the cabin. Though it was dark inside, he could see that the other individual was female, a bit younger than the boy. They had a bit of a resemblance, from what Jack could tell. He made a ninety degree turn, to see and speak to both of them.
"You don't have to be on edge - I've seen enough people die in my lifetime. I don't want to add to that number unless I [i]absolutely[/i] have to. What are your names?"