[Jake was no fool, Graham was real sure of that, and he knew the boy would figure it out. Dead folk were everywhere but there was no horde in sight, and the last couple stragglers he'd seen way back would take time to catch up. Being here before probably made him calmer, he reckoned. Less easily panicked and sure as hell not afraid because the dead didn't scare him these days, and the horror of this world had gone numb.
He pulled up near the parked truck, put the car into park and turned off the ignition. People would call him crazy, sure, but there was enough lucidity seeping in through the cracks to make him realize Jake wouldn't see his mother. Couldn't. And that was just fine. Graham slung his pack over his shoulder, then the rifle, and his pistol was holstered on his hip as he climbed out of the car and came up the driver's side.
When he'd said he wasn't real good with time, it hadn't been bullshit. His mind didn't work quite right and things got jumbled; still, he remembered moments. Remembered the last time he'd seen his son, even if he didn't remember the date or exactly how long ago, just like he remembered the last time he'd heard his voice. And, too, he remembered the last time Jake had called him Dad. But he'd deserved it back then. Maybe he didn't deserve it now.]
You okay? [Concerned, that much showed, and even though he wanted to open the door himself he waited.]