[ Carver shrugs at that. For now, he doesn't say. But hospitals and medicine and fresh food don't last. He takes another sip of whiskey, letting it warm him. ]

Pope?

[ He lifts the glass, watching it swirl. Wondering if he ought to clam up. Avoid saying anything lest he betray his family by accident.

But then, Pope is dead now. ]

He looked after us, [ Carver says after a while. ] We didn't have anywhere else to go, so he gave us a place. And he kept us going after the world ended. He made sure I was strong enough.