Max is brooding. He has been brooding ever since all of this has started. All of it, their homes disappearing, the dwindling supplies, the lack of power, the disappearances... all of it definitely feels all too familiar to him. The disappearances are hitting him the worst of all, because it’s all too easy to remember the time when they came to his door and kicked it in and took his wife...

But he shakes his head and picks up the bottle that has been his company since even before Annie had shown back up. It was almost empty now, and Max glared at the kid as if it was his fault. 

Max knows that it isn’t, but in some ways he really doesn’t give a fuck. 
So he snorts, “this place ain’t nothing but lemons, kid. Life isn’t. Best to get used to that now in whatever time we’ve got left.”