"Couple weeks," Carl answered. Long enough to know he hated it. Long enough to know he'd rather go back where he came from, fighting zombies day after day, night after night. At least it was something to do, in an odd sort of way it was something to live for, just to survive. Here the days and nights all ran together, The only good was finding Sophia again, but he'd seen her die back home, and none of it made sense and he wasn't convinced he wasn't stuck in a really elaborate fever dream.
"You?" he asked the other man. "I'm Carl, by the way." Names were important, he remembered that. Names were what people called each other. Names had power.