He’d been watching over the little kids, something that Abel loathed. Not understanding why they couldn’t play in the yard alone, (because, you know, Gunner had to be careful) in their nice, quiet neighborhood, he’d groan surly when they’d all went in for snacks, refusing to come in. Instead, he was in the driveway, playing basketball by himself. As skinny as the day was long, with a mess of long, blond hair, he looked like his father, like his aunt, when they were kids. When the ball bounced towards the street, he managed to rush at catch it, but a man with greying blond hair caught Abel’s attention.
Slowly, he moved inside, keeping his attention on the man. “Ma?” he spoke, looking around until he found his parents. “There’s a man on a bike outside he warned. Abel knew to look for the Reaper at 12 years old--and at 12 years old, that’s what he wanted. “Not sure who the heck he is,” he spoke, putting the basketball down in the corner. He watched Opie stand up, getting so easily dwarfed by the man. “Ain’t a nomad,” Abel sighed. He knew the drill: keep the kids inside.