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Bruce pulled off the highway and parked his car, picking the heavy bags of groceries he'd bought from a Kmart miles away from their shaddy cabin they were filming in.
He gets out the car and immediately regrets buying so much, but the cast and crew were all hungry. Bruce wouldn't be suprised if they'd eaten each other when he was gone.
He looks over at the hill, shockingly Sam wasn't on there. Rob must've dragged him in again. Sam was enjoying himself but he was probably fucking suicidal with the things he said "I can't do this, Bruce, "I wish I was dead." Bruce shakes it off and carries on walking slowly into the woods.
A tall, muscled, bearded guy walked the opposite way from the cabin. He grips a shotgun in his hands, his face emotionless and cold. Bruce's mind goes all sorts of place.
Were the others dead?
Was Rob dead?
Was Sam?
"Good morning..." Was all Bruce could muster up.
"Mornin'." The man replied, he passed Bruce quickly after that. Not helping to quell his nerves.
Bruce speeds up his walk, not caring about the weight of his bags or how tired he was from shooting. He walks up the path and places the bags down to open the door. He was greatful Sam was the only one in the small cabin. Along with all the cameras and other equipment.
"Sami?" He says, placing the bags by the door. He walks over to the couch and shakes the blankets. Starling Sam awake.
"Jesus! Hello?" He yells out, his eyes widening open.
"Jesus Sami! I thought you were fucking dead!" Bruce replied, he stops shaking him and calms down.
Sam gets up off the couch and gently holds Bruce's hands in his, feeling the coldness double.
"I'm fine, Bruce." Sam gently kisses Bruce's cheek and sits outside to have a smoke. Bruce sighs in relief and joins him. Resting a head on Sam's shoulder as he waits for the others to drive up.