Many a time Dylan wonders if the last sunrise would be his last.

His parents? Gone. His siblings? Gone, he buried his sister two days ago. That was five days after his birthday. Not that those matter anymore. No, the days of throwing the ultimate party when you turn twenty one? Those days are far gone. All that matters now is survival. And boy did Darwin have it right. Survival of the fittest is the key, not just physical fitness but mental fitness. So Dylan sticks around the cramped bomb shelter his crazy uncle on his mother's side built even though it's filled with the stink of cousins he never really cared for before. Truth be told, they don't care a whole lot about him either, but they're smart enough to realize that those clever traps Dylan knows how to build has kept them fed. And that's all their smarts used up, right there.

The sound of a helicopter nearby disturbs his daily hunting/gathering routine and that definitely annoys Dylan. Hunting time is the only time he manages to get away from the cramped homemade bomb shelter, with the stinky cousins. At first he considers ignoring it and staying right where he is, on the branch he's been patiently sitting on to wait for prey to be caught in one of his traps. And then he finally remembers.

“Shit,” Dylan says to the little squirrel that happens to run by him down the tree and right into one of his traps. He jumps down the tree, trap forgotten, and hurries back to the bunker. He arrives just in time to see, those men in all-black tactical gear rounding up his “family”, weapons pointed at them as they call out his name, Dylan Harker. The sound of his arrival, given away by his rugged boots purposely stepping on a branch has those weapons turning to him faster than he can raise his arms, which he does. With arms up he looks at the group and flashes them a grin.

“Whoa,” he does his best Keanu Reaves impression. 

It takes him all of two seconds to make the decision, much to his uncle's chagrin who is now realizing that he's about to lose his badass trapper. Dylan says yes before he's even made it to the men in all-black tactical gear with the scary weapons.

He's saying hell yes as he goes grab his duffel bag, filled with the few things he actually cares about enough to take with him. The only goodbye to his uncle is a pat on the shoulder that reads more as a 'Sucks to be you', than any true affection. There's also a grin and upnod to those stinky cousins before he pulls himself up into the helicopter. 

And as he settles in, gets himself all buckled up, Dylan looks over at the sun going down in the horizon and for the first time in what feels like forever, he doesn't think about tomorrow's sunrise.