At Claire's question, Jack gave a genuine chuckle. He was surprised anyone still cared to learn a thing about the old way of living, much less about D.C.. However, as he thought he realized it may not have been the content of the question that mattered, but rather than the fact that she was trying to connect and get to know him in some way. Since they'd met, Chris had done most of the talking. Up until then, he couldn't tell if something had been troubling her, or if she was just naturally like that.
"Well, I used to be a Democrat - which basically meant that half the country hated me, and the other half wanted me to do literally everything they asked. But.. I never initially wanted to join a party in the first place. I had my own beliefs, and my district had their own beliefs, and that's what I wanted to represent in the Capitol. But.. As I entered politics I realized that was virtually impossible - in order to get nearly anything done, you [i]had[/i] to pick a side." Jack gave a shrug; he was at least glad that that feeling of incessant pressure from all sides was behind him. Then again, the life that replaced it wasn't much of an improvement.

"It does make me wonder what happened to all those politicians after the outbreak. I mean, we had emergency procedures, in case of nuclear war and all that, but zombie apocalypse?" He paused, looking into the fire, which was still crackling strong. "I suppose then again I likely wasn't high enough in the food chain to know about anything. The President? Vice President, the Cabinet? I'm sure they made it; preserved in an underground bunker, set to rise up again and lead once the threat has passed. A phoenix, rising up from the ashes of a nation that no longer exists.." He stopped himself before he said any more. The truth was, he had become increasingly cynical about it all, following the months he'd been alone. The tattered remains of his life were so up in the air - his parents were likely dead, but he never found them in Spokane. His friends down in California, the group he left, could very well have been overrun by now. Everyone he ever knew could now be walking the Earth, foot-soldiers in the endless army of the undead.

Jack caught something out of the corner of his eye which startled him out of his reminiscence. He glanced over toward the west, and spotted the light wisp of smoke above the trees. It was either a forest fire, or..
"I don't think we're alone," he said suddenly, directing the siblings to what he had seen. The smoke was barely visible, so the fire must have been low, but it was unmistakably a campfire. Perhaps a half-mile away, within the boundaries of the campground. Jack stood and brought the now smoked meat inside, before walking briskly over to the cabin, going inside to gather some ammunition, then exiting, making a brief stop at the picnic table to throw his shotgun behind his shoulder and slip the hatchet into the belt-loop of his jeans.
"I'm gonna go investigate. They could be in need of help. Or.. They could be trouble. Either way it isn't safe here until that is known," he returned his gaze to Chris and Claire and, preparing to tell them not to move until he returned, instead shook the idea away. He wasn't their father, and it seemed they could handle themselves.
"You can come if you want, I could probably use some backup. But it's your choice."