Oliver Evans looked at the two men through the bushes and fingered his rifle. He was starving. For weeks, he hadn't been able to get food. They seemed friendly, though he couldn't hear what they were saying. Oliver was about to do something that went completely against the rules he'd made for himself in the apocalypse. No. I'll stay with my "morals". He stepped out silently, with his rifle aimed at them. "Howdy, gents. Now, I'm Oliver. If I were you, I'd introduce yourself." He shivered under his leather jacket. He wasn't sure if he could go for much longer without food. He shoved his hand into his grey jeans and fished out an extra bullet. Just in case.