[i]Summer sucks.[/i] decided Matt. Though he felth that way for quite a while, this was the first time he gave any serious thought to the matter. Other than the fact that it was too damn hot and muggy, even in Massachusets, but no one needed a guy to cut their fireword, which sucked for Matt. Everyday it was harder and harder to justify carrying this damn axe around, despite Karl's teachings. 

Karl was big, strong, wise (or insane depending on your point of view), but none of that stopped him from dying in his sleep. After that, Matt buried the old man as best as he could, took his big axe and headed eastward. He used to get some work chopping firewood for the local settlements he ran into along the way, but in summer, who needed firewood?

Now Matt was wandering in upstate Massachusets, in the general direction of Boston, starving and feeling worn. He wanted to find a place to sleep, but nightfall was atleast 6 hours away. Before pondering what he should do next, he heard a noise coming from the bush's just off the dirt road he was on. Though he held his axe, he instinctivly reached for the handgun in his belt.