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[center][h1][color=00aeef]Joseph Reed[/color][/h1][/center]
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The brisk early November air nipped at Joseph's nose as he walked the perimeter of the farm. With his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and his weathered boots shuffling along the muddy ground, his mind was lost in the clouds. Grey weather like this always made Joseph miss his family terribly. With it being Sunday, the farmhand's day off, Joseph thought it best to isolate himself for a little bit. A nice slow walk ought to do it. The men had a game of baseball going and Joseph was usually one to participate but his mood didn't match the occasion and he had let the men know that he'd be around after his walk. The light drizzle collected on Joseph's chestnut hair, eventually causing the hair to stick together in small clumps on his head. He didn't mind, his hair was dirty anyway. He planned to take a bath that night. 

Joseph's walk around the perimeter of the farm was coming to an end as the sound of the men chattering came into earshot. As he neared closer, he caught bits and pieces of the conversation. As it appeared, Bill had hit the ball out in the wooded area and Henry and Yulian had gone to fetch it. Joseph decided that he had had enough time to himself for the day. At times, usually due to the weather or a remark made by another farmhand, Joseph would find himself stuck reminiscing about his family, unable to pull himself from the miserable slump. Having both his wife and son taken from him only 7 years prior, the wounds had yet to heal. Seven years sounded like a proficient time to get over a loss but it seemed to Joseph that the wrenching feeling of being without his wife and son only worsened with each year. Each month that went by only seemed to deepen his feelings of grief and lonesome. He had never longed for anything as desperately as he longed for the touch of his wife or the laugher of his son. On most days, he would do his best to push those feelings of longing and ever occurring memories away and focus on the work he was tasked with that day. However, every now and again, he had to give into them. He had to feel sorry for himself sometimes. Today was one of those times. 

Waiting around with the other men while the two men fetched the ball, Joseph surveyed his clothing and tried to decide if anything needed patching yet. It had been a while since he mended any of his clothes. His thoughts were interrupted when a commotion arose with the arrival of the men who had gone to look for the baseball. He looked up to see Henry and Yulian pace toward the group of men, a bloodied Clay on Yulian's shoulder. The two men appeared greatly disturbed and the sight of Clay bloodied and seemingly unconscious was alarming. It wasn't until the men reached the rest of the farmhands that they learned that some crazy madman had killed Clay in cold blood. The prospect that there were people like that made Joseph's stomach spin. The Tuckett Farm had always been a safe place. It was hard to believe that cold blooded murder took place just outside the boundaries of the farm. 

Now in a worried state, Joseph followed the farmer's orders and returned to the barn. He was among the men who had gathered around the radio in attempt to learn anything about what sounded like "The Red Plague". At least that's what it sounded like the voice on the radio said. While he was growing more concerned with every moment, his face remained stoic as he took all this new information in. Once he had heard enough from the radio, he took a step back from it to allow other farmhands to hear it better. Wringing his hands, he collapsed onto his bunk and let it all sink in. "[color=00aeef]Jesus[/color]," the man muttered to himself.