Chapter Text
7/13/2012
The end of the world was the best thing that ever happened to me.
That was all I could think as I fucked the little thief beneath me relentlessly. I didn’t care how much she wailed or cried for me to stop; she tried to steal from me, and it’s only fair I get to punish her for it. Without police, it was up to each man to administer justice as he saw fit, and feeling this little slut cry around my cock was my personal brand.
I had left my van earlier that day to venture into town. It couldn’t have been much later than two or three, judging off where the sun sat in the sky. That meant I had a few hours of daylight to use, and I needed almost all of it. There were three mechanics that I knew of in Alma, Alabama, and, in the worst case, I’d have to walk a dozen or so miles to all three and then back to the van. As much as I wanted to be mad, I was impressed she made it that long to begin with. The old van, a ‘95 Chevrolet G20, had chugged through for nearly six months without needing repair, and that felt like winning the lottery, given the circumstances.
So, I packed a bag full of whatever I figured I’d need for the trip: Water, food, my handgun, and a first aid pack. With the essentials covered, I embarked on the boring walk through the little ghost town.
It was funny. Alma almost seemed more alive now. Before it all happened, Alma felt like an old painting of a town, like something Edward Hopper’d have made. It was a little unsettling. Sure, people still lived there, but the factory had closed, and without industry, the town was bleeding. People left, and the streets were usually home to only a spattering of locals, all of them full of anger and sorrow.
Now, though, Kudzu had claimed a swath of buildings on the east side of the main road, and little packs of stray dogs had gotten very territorial over an apartment complex to the west. Birds chirped while resting on wires and rooftops, and rodents never seemed to stop scurrying through nooks in the now-abandoned buildings. If any of the locals were still alive, they had clearly left a long time ago.
I thought about all of these things as I made the boring walk to the first of the mechanic shops, the rusted old Mitch’s Automotive. Like the rest of the town, it honestly looked better now. Vines covered the crumbling walls, and little flowers pushed up through the cracks in the foundation. The greenery across the old bricks gave it a biophilic sort of charm. All of the dusty shelves and boxes of parts were either too old to use or for the wrong types of vehicles. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. Either way, the sun was still high, and I had plenty of time.
The walk to the second shop was the longest of the day, save for the walk back at the end, but I didn’t mind it. I took a small detour and passed by the small museum just beyond the ‘Welcome to Alma’ sign. It was something related to the region’s history, but that wasn’t what I cared about. All of the old placards were too dusty to read anyway. The only one I cared about was Tommy Deville’s, and I had every word of it memorized anyway.
Back in the ‘20s, he had a small farm a few dozen miles from Alma that produced the most moonshine of anywhere in the South. Alabama had enacted prohibition over a decade before the rest of the country, and that gave Devilla a pretty big head start over all of the other guys. He had all of his production and distribution figured out a decade earlier, and he shipped liquor all across the South. His only problem was producing enough to meet demand, and in his business, that was a good problem to have. With that said, his whole process wasn’t all that discreet, and talks about the Italian Moonshiner pretty quickly made their way to the ears of the police. After one of his men, a freed black named Duane Short, flipped, the police had all the intel they needed to get a warrant for his arrest.
Since he had sold across state lines, the feds got involved, and they laid siege to his farm. Even in the face of a dozen headlights and M1911s, Deville didn’t scare, and he shot nearly two hundred rounds before they finally put him down. When I was a kid, I thought Deville was the coolest son of a bitch to ever walk this earth, and I used to reenact his last stand with all the neighborhood kids whenever we had the chance. Now, though, that I finally made my way back to Alma, I could finally take a piece of that story with me. In a large glass case, just behind the plate with his background, they showed off a collection of Deville’s belongings. Perched right in the middle of ‘XXX’ jugs and shreds of his clothing sat a pristinely preserved Tommy Gun. It hadn’t rusted a bit, and the original bluing of the steel was almost completely intact. It was really a thing of beauty, and I really wish you could’ve seen it.
Honestly, a part of me felt back when I first smashed the case open, like I had just dropped one of Mom’s pieces of fine china. That feeling completely faded when I held the Thompson in my hands. The way the handle rested in my grip, the slow resistance of the trigger, and the hard stock on my shoulder filled me with this childish brand of glee; it was like I was playing in the yard again, with all my friends around me. It almost made me miss the way things were before.
I knew I didn’t have time to waste, though, so I set the gun in my pack and kept moving, setting off for the second repair shop. Brown Motors sat just outside of town, along route 278, across and down a ways from Liberty Fuel. It was much nicer than Mitch’s, and the place kept a far better stock, even of niche parts. The next town over held these old car shows pretty often, and Brown’s did a lot of work for them. Their storage room was locked, and I was immediately grateful I had brought my hand gun. With a quick squeeze, the door slammed open. A steaming hole sat where the lock had once been, with a thin ring of ash surrounding the wound. I always forget how loud guns are, and my ears rung like hell for the next couple of minutes. Trying to ignore it, I quickly moved back and started pilfering through all of the old parts.
After what felt like an hour, I found it. Tucked behind a box of sparkplugs, the old fuel pump was wrapped generously in cobwebs. It looked like it might have actually been from ‘95, when the G series was still in production. It’s a little embarrassing, but I was so excited I kicked the shelf over, and before I knew it, I had trashed the entire place. It’d come back to bite me if I needed another repair, but it was worth the fun.
With the gun and the pump, I hummed the whole way back to the car, trying to remember all of my favorite songs from back when the radio still worked. When I finally made it back to the lot where I had parked, I could tell something was wrong immediately. I was still about a hundred feet out, but even from that distance, I could see the back door of my G20 wide open, and I never leave it open, no matter what. Without many people around, the animals here have gotten plenty bold, and I really didn’t feel like having to fight a coyote over my dinner. That meant someone had been there, and had probably robbed me blind. If they hadn’t and by some stroke of luck I could catch them, I knew I was going to give them hell. I crouched down and pulled my pistol from my bag.
I approached slowly, my heart pounding in my ears, until I drew close enough to see that luck had, in fact, been on my side. Someone was halfway in the van, bent over and digging through my stuff. They were rummaging loudly through my stuff, and I worried that I’d have one hell of a mess to clean up after this was all said and done. Thankfully, with all the noise they were making, I was able to get right behind them without being noticed at all.
The thief was a girl, I could tell now that I was standing right behind her. She was small, young, and a mess. The top of her head would barely reach my shoulders, and her frame didn’t yet have all the curves of a woman. Even still, her jeans clung to her ass nicely, and I could tell she’d be a great fuck. She wore a white tank-top that was pretty well stained, and her brown hair was a tangled mess. It was thick and wavy, though it was cut pretty roughly and only fell down to about her jawline. That left her shoulder bare, and her skin was kissed with freckles. Surprisingly, she was still pretty pale, and I’d have guessed that she was hiding out in the nearby rest stop. She couldn’t have been much older than thirteen, and the sight of her little body got my blood flowing.
You can’t blame me, really. It had been months since I had seen a woman, and she tried to rob me, so it’s only fair that I took something in return. It’s a harsh world out there, and you’ve gotta have some way to keep things orderly.
I could feel my erection swelling against my jeans, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I launched forward and wrapped my fingers through the girl’s hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to stand. She screamed and clutched at my hand, trying to free herself from my grip. The minute she felt the cold muzzle on the nape of her neck she froze.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You think you can steal from me, huh? Answer me, you little bitch!”
I tugged harder on her hair, and she stepped back into me, pressing her ass right onto my erection. She tensed right as my bulge pressed between her cheeks, and I pushed harder into her.
“You deaf? I asked you a question.” I grinded into her as I spoke, and she let out these adorable little whimpers.
Finally speaking up, her voice was all quiet and broken, “Please, I’m sorry, please let me go. I didn’t realize it was yours, I’m really sorry, please.”
“Just cause it’s mine doesn’t make a difference. Stealing’s not right, I’m sure you know better. What kind of a man would I be if I let that go unpunished?”
“I- I don’t know” She just barely managed to squeak out.
“I’d be weak, a pushover. Do you understand?”
“I- I think so. Can you please put the gun down?”
I think I chuckled at that, but I’m not sure how much like a laugh it really sounded. “It sounds like you do think I’m some kind of a pushover.”
“No it’s just- you’re scaring me, ok?”
“Good. You should be scared.”
With that, I pushed her back over into the van, hitting her head against the carpeted floor. I pulled my fingers out of her hair, but held the gun firmly against her neck, and she was smart enough not to move. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have shot her, but the gun did a fine job of scaring the girl. She only whined when I pulled her arms firmly behind her back, and I’m sure she was getting an idea of what I planned to do with her. Careful not to take my eyes off of her, I dug around in my backpack until I found a little bit of bungee cord.
When I started tying it around her wrists, she spoke up again. “I get it, ok? I’m really sorry I tried to steal from you, and I promise it won’t happen again. You proved your point, ok? Please, please let me go.”
“You think I proved my point? Really? You haven’t even seen half of it.”
I’ve always been good with knots, courtesy of the boy scouts, and so I tied her wrists tight in only a few seconds. The girl cried out when she heard my belt clink, and she yelped again when she heard my jeans hit the asphalt. It felt amazing to be free of my pants, and my cock stood straight out. I was elated knowing that I’d get to spend the night with someone other than my hand, and I could barely contain myself as I tore the girl’s jeans down. She cried and tried to thrash, but another kiss from the muzzle stopped her.
When I placed my length over her black panties the tears began. She sobbed into the carpet, and she gasped in anguish when I thrust between her cheeks, letting only our underwear stand between us. This seemed to wake her up enough for her to decide that she could talk me out of raping her. She couldn’t.
“Wait! Wait, please! Please just listen to me.”
I thrust again, “I’m listening, girl.”
“I- I’ll suck your dick. I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t take my first time. I’ll do anything you ask, anything but that.”
“You good at sucking cock? You better be, if you even want me to consider that.”
“I, um, I can learn. Just, just tell me what to do, and I’ll learn, ok?”
I laughed at that, her desperation was pretty interesting, if I was being honest. “Yeah? How about I make you a counter offer.”
She nodded her head, sniffling. “Y-yeah. Ok.”
“If you can give me a good enough blowjob, I won’t fuck you. How about that?”
“A-are you kidding? You’ll make me do that and you might still… you know. That’s insane!” I loved the little bit of fire that peeked out of her there, and it only made me want to snuff it out even more.
“That? You mean blow me?” I taunted her.
“Yes. I just- It’s gross, ok? I never thought I’d-”
I tangled my hand back in her hair and picked her up, turning her to face me. She was strikingly pretty, if not a big slender. She had big brown eyes and a pretty little button nose. A septum piercing hung crooked from it, and her lips were full and looked soft. Our eyes met and she shrunk back. I grinned at her, and pushed her down to her knees. She fell hard, and let out a grunt as her bare skin was battered by the asphalt below. Not giving her the time to adjust, I thrust forward, rubbing my clothed erection on her cheek, earning a shocked gasp.
“Gross, huh?”
She groaned in displeasure as I rubbed myself all across her face, smearing a damp trail of precum across her nose and cheek. She turned away and sniffled, her eyes wet and teary. I forced her to face me, and as my bulge pressed into her, I slowly pulled my underwear down until my cock finally sprung free. It slapped her across the left eye, covering the length of her face. She looked up in awe, and I could tell she was losing faith in her ability to blow me.
“Are you just gonna stare at it?”
She stuttered, seemingly unable to process the situation she was in. “I- I- How? That won’t fit…”
I nodded, “Alright,” and began tugging on her hair, pulling her back to her feet.
“No! No, wait! I’ll do it, please I’ll do it!” Her face was contorted in pain, which slowly eased as I loosened my grip on her hair and let her fall back to her knees.
“Then get to it, girl. Don’t you see how lenient I’m already being here?”
She looked up at me in awe, like she couldn’t even imagine me being worse than I was now.
I grinned, looking down at her pretty little face sitting right next to my cock. “You think this is bad? If I wasn’t a nice guy, I’d have bent you over and fucked your ass raw. Instead, I’m letting you take the easy way out. Can’t you even be a little grateful for that?”
“My… ass?” She looked completely appalled, like she had never even thought of anal sex before. After a moment, she rapidly began nodding her head. “I- I’m grateful! I promise! Please don’t do that, please…” She trailed off towards the end, her eyes filling with fear.
“Then open your mouth and blow me, bitch.”
Her eyes flashed with that lovely little fire, but she quickly suppressed it, fear showing itself to be more powerful. Begrudgingly, she opened her mouth, and moved at a painfully slow pace toward my cock. If I wasn’t so aroused, it’d have been funny, but my patience was wearing quite thin. I tightened my grip on her hair and slammed forward, hilting myself almost completely in her mouth. Her head slammed back into the rear bumper of my G20, and she gagged violently around my cock. Her throat spasmed as she struggled to breathe, and she coughed up waves of spit as she tried to force me out of her little wet mouth. I made eye contact with her, and much to my pleasure, I saw a glimpse of that fire again.
After a moment, and when her eyes began to drift closed, I pulled back, letting my sopping cock sit on her face again. She coughed and wheezed, spit dripping from her lower lip.
“You- you asshole!” She managed between coughs.
I frowned. She clearly hadn’t learned her manners at all. “What did you just call me?”
Fear bloomed on her face, “No! No, I’m sorry it’s just… y- you put the whole thing in my mouth! I wasn’t ready! I couldn’t breathe, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry…”
She was really quite cute when she begged. It would be a little unreasonable to completely hold her reaction against her, so I gave her another chance. “It’s alright. I’ll give you another chance, okay? Just, don’t be so damn slow this time.”
She nodded rapidly, “Yes! Ok, yeah, I can do this.” She said more to herself than to me.
Despite all of her self assurance, and the bit of resistance she was putting up, I could see right through her. She was hungry, nearly starving, and beyond afraid. I felt bad for her, and if she hadn’t tried to rob me, I might have even helped her out. For a price, of course.
Finally getting back into motion, the girl opened her mouth and slid her head forward, closing her lips around my tip. She adjusted her posture, seemingly trying to find the proper way to hold a dick in her mouth. She finally slid a bit forward and seemed to find it. After a hard swallow, which didn’t feel too bad, she began to slowly move her head back and forth. Her tongue lay totally limp, and her teeth gently scraped me with each movement. If I’m being completely honest, it was the worst blowjob I had ever been given in my entire life. After about another minute of that, I pulled back and she looked up at me with confusion across her face. I grabbed a handful of her messy brown hair again, holding it tight.
That confusion quickly turned to fear, and she tried to thrash against my grip, pulling her own hair in the process. She winced but did not stop, and I slowly pulled her up as she scrambled to stand. In a quick motion, I turned her around and pushed her face back onto the carpet of the van, and she cried out in despair.
“Please! Please don’t, I’ll do anything! Please!”
I could’ve threatened her again, but watching her struggle turned me on in a way I never had been before, and her little pleas were adorable. I held her head in place while I yanked her black panties down. Her ass looked even better bare, and it wiggled so enticingly as she tried to wrest herself free of my grip; I suspect that she would have fought much harder if not for my gun. The skin was pale, and both of her virgin holes were beyond pretty. A small patch of hair sat just above her pussy, which was little more than a slit between her thighs. Her butt was incredibly small, and the way her tight hole clenched seemed like an invitation to break in.
The way she kept repeating ‘anything’ was a bit annoying; she wouldn’t do anything. She’d do very little, in all truth, at least that I’d want her to do, and I wanted to prove that point. She went still when I pressed my tip against her tight little pucker, and she tensed completely when I pressed forwards. I kept the pressure up, and as her hole began to slowly relent, the realization dawned on her, and she begged with more vigor than she had at any point before.
“No! No! Not there, please! You can fuck me, just please don’t put it up there! Anywhere but there, please!”
I couldn’t believe it. All it took was the threat of a little anal and now she’s ready to throw away her virginity? Girls have no guts. Part of me wanted to see how she’d scream when I fucked her there, but without any lube it’d be painful for me as well, and I didn’t want to hurt her too badly.
“Please… please, not there” she had trailed off, her voice growing quiet as she cried.
Relenting, I pulled back, letting her ass be for now. She panted, and I could tell that the idea had really scared her. Now that she had asked for it, I slid my tip down to her little slit. She was completely dry, and if not for the spit still dripping from my cock, this would have been very painful for her. I slowly pushed forward, and she squealed as I began to force her apart around me.
“It hurts! Oh my god, it hurts! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
She whined as I slid further and further into her depths. Each inch took work to force in, and she cried out louder as I took more of her. I pulled her hair, using it to leverage myself and slide in deeper. As I reached about half way in, I found myself pressed up against her hymen. She shook and panted as I finally stopped my approach.
“I- Is that all, all of it?” She gasped, shifting her hips to try and find comfort around me.
In reality, I was only about four inches into her, and I was nowhere near content with that. Pulling back, I spit on her little pussy, and she gasped as it hit her.
“Not even close.”
In an instant, I forced myself back inside and plowed through her hymen. I groaned in pleasure as I felt it give, smearing my cock in her blood. She screamed and thrashed around my cock, but I didn’t care, and I kept forcing myself forward. The little bit of blood made getting the rest of me in easier, and she had finally ceased screaming once I hilted myself inside. My balls slapped at her lips, and she let out these cute little squeaks with each breath.
“Oh- oh god… it hurts so, so bad. Please… please take it out, please! Please, please take it out!”
I began to slide back, and for a moment I think she really thought I’d listened to her. Instead, I thrust back inside, and she screamed out in pain. Slowly, I began settling into a rhythm, and her body began to respond. She was starting to get wet, and that made each stroke into the girl easier.
“It hurts! You’re- ah! You’re tearing me apart! Oh, fuck, oh god! Fucckkkkk… ah! Ah! Ah! Pleeeeeaasseeee” She cried, gasping with each stroke into her.
Her little body shook with each thrust in, and her ass shot forward each time I slammed my hips into it. Tears had streamed down her face and were leaving a wet spot on the van’s carpet floor.Slowly she was beginning to get wet, and it was getting easier to force my way in and out, and I sawed into her faster and faster. Each thrust let out a loud slap, and her little ass rippled with the impact. Her back twisted and arched, trying futilely to find some way to escape the pain. Her legs shook beneath her, bowing in at the knees and trying not to collapse.
I fucked her hard and fast, and she couldn’t even force words out between her cries. She sobbed and screamed as I stuffed her full, and she squealed as I pulled her hair up and made her stand. She gasped at the sudden relief, but she wiggled uncomfortably as my cock invaded her in a new position.
“Ah- Oh, oh god.” Her voice was shaky, “I’m so- so sorry I stole from you, but I- I learned my lesson, ok? Just, fuck, just please let me go, ok?”
“And leave me hanging? No, I don’t think I will.” I pulled the girl close and spoke right into her ear, “I’m gonna ruin you, and then, once I’ve filled you up, I’ll let you go.”
She didn’t respond, and by this point, I think she realized that trying to argue wasn’t getting her anywhere. As much as I didn’t want to leave her heavenly little body, I pulled out, and she fell backwards as her legs gave out. Fortunately for her, she collapsed against my chest, and I helped her stay upright. Through her tank-top, I got a great feel for her chest. They weren’t huge, but definitely bigger than most girls would have at her age. They filled my hands nicely, and she stiffened when I squeezed them. I could feel her jaw tense, and that only encouraged me to be rougher.
“You’ve got a really nice body, girl. How lucky I am to have found such a pretty little thing?” I kissed at her ear while I said this part, it felt real smooth, like the kind of thing a girl would like; if she wasn’t being raped, that is.
Keeping with her new pattern of silence, she stayed quiet, only whining as I got her ear all wet. If she didn’t want to talk, we didn’t have to, and I was content to get back to it. I pulled her around to face me, and after a few moments of looking at her wide-eyed face, I pushed her down onto her back. I saw that fire flash in her eyes as her back landed on the wet spot of carpet, and she tried to kick at me. She wasn’t all that strong, but a few hits managed to land on my gut, and they didn’t exactly feel great. I pushed her legs up beside her head, forcing them apart and bringing her little pussy up closer to me. Thrusting slowly back and forth, I slid my tip across her little slit, smearing blood across her. I watched tears roll down her cheeks as she watched and saw what had been defiling her, and that fire fizzled as she realized it wasn’t over. With a single smooth motion, I hilted myself in her, sinking deeper than I had before.
She was so tight, and her little cunt seemed to pull me in all on its own. Holding her legs in place, I hammered into the girl, and she cried out openly. Her eyes were scrunched tightly shut, and her bottom lip quivered between moans and cries. The little ring hanging from her nose swayed with each ragged exhale, and her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. I loved how messy and distraught she looked, it was like my cock was the only thing she could think about, like each stroke filled her whole body with my lust. After what I think was half an hour, I slammed myself all the way into her, and with my fingers around her throat, I came in her little pussy. The creampie dripped as I pulled out, and she squealed the whole way.
“You… you finished inside me…” she whispered.
“You’ll live,” I responded, “Now, c'mon, your punishment's over. You’re free to go.”
I pulled my jeans back up and refastened my belt, and the girl had still yet to move. She lay still, her chest rising and falling under that thin layer of white cloth. With a sigh, I lifted her and cut the binds around her wrist, helping her to stand in the process.
“Did you hear me? You can go.” I repeated.
Finally seeming to come back to reality, she blinked a few times and then nodded, “I- I can? I thought- I thought you were gonna kill me…”
I was genuinely shocked, at no point had I even entertained the thought. “Are you kidding? What the hell gave you that idea?”
“I- I dunno! I just thought…”
“Well, stop it. You can go, girl. I’m not gonna kill you.” She still didn’t move, and I raised my voice a bit, “Go!”
Finally moving, the girl began limping off towards the visitor center. Each step looked like a real struggle, and I’d suspect she’d be sore for the next day or two. With her finally gone, I could enjoy the afterglow of a nice fuck. I had forgotten just how good it felt. Your arms and legs get all light, and it feels like the sun just rose to shine right over you. God, there’s nothing like it. The only thing that could make it better is to have a smoke while you’ve still got the body high, and that’s exactly what I was chasing. After closing the back door, I walked around and slowly climbed into the driver's side. I hoped I could get the old G20 to start without replacing the fuel pump, and again, it seemed luck was on my side. She squealed as I turned the ignition, but eventually, I felt the engine roar to life and I quickly drove off.
Not wanting to push the old van, I stopped about two miles away, at a little park just off the road. The parking lot was pretty overgrown, but it wasn’t too visible from the street, and I figured it’d be as good a spot as any to get to it. As much as I wanted to smoke, I figured it’d feel more earned after I got on with the repairs, and so I popped the hood and pulled my toolbox from the passenger seat.
I’ve been around cars since I was a kid, as you well know, and so it wasn’t much of a hard repair. I had all the right tools, and dad kept the owner’s manual in pretty good condition in the glove box. I moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to light the old thing on fire. Eventually, with a bit of patience, I had swapped out the old fuel pump with the new, and she’d be good to drive out of here in the morning.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, and with the sun setting behind me, I flipped open my Zippo and lit the menthol in between my lips. The cold smoke felt fantastic in the heat of the evening, and I sat on the hood of my car as I watched the sky shift to pink around me. Night was approaching, and after I finished the smoke, I’d have to clean myself up and head to bed.
It was a waste to use drinking water to clean, and so I had stores of rain water than I used to bathe. With the rise in the whole camper lifestyle, portable showers had become pretty easy to find, and I used mine nearly every day. I set it up quickly beside the van and used a bit of rain water to clean myself off, mostly just rinsing the sweat from my body. I felt a hell of a lot better afterwards, and without any grease smeared on my hands or blood on my cock, I was much closer to sleep. All that was left was to see what damage the girl had done to my stores.
She hadn’t really made all too much of a mess, at least not as much as I was expecting. The back of my van was spacious, with a carpeted floor and plenty of room now that the seats had been removed. Behind the driver’s side, I had laid out a single mattress with a few blankets on top of it. In the window beside it, I had managed to mount a small AC which made the cooling far less of a strain on the van. At the foot of the mattress I had a little generator, which I put outside of the van whenever I ran it; I wasn’t planning on making it this far just for carbon monoxide to do me in. Everything behind the passenger side was storage, save for the little bit of space around the back door. I had stocked old boxes of food, jugs of water, medical supplies, board games, clothing, gasoline, cigarettes, ammunition, and about everything else I could ever want. Even with all that stuff, there was still plenty of space in the back for me to move around in. In all honesty, it was probably more spacious than my old dorm room.
The girl had gotten into the box closest to the back door, which was filled with cartons of cigarettes. I had found them next to an overturned truck on I-95, right across the state line into Maryland, and I couldn’t pass up on that many free smokes. She had torn the box open and tossed a few packs aside haphazardly. Once I cleaned the cardboard straps and the loose cigarettes from my floor, I felt a wave of satisfaction wash over me. Sleep would come easy tonight, and I couldn’t wait.
Even still, running into another person, even if she was just a kid, had reminded me that I needed to be careful, and so I went around and taped covers onto each of my windows, that way, any prospective thieves wouldn’t know how much of a treasure trove that had just stumbled onto. With the van now locked up tight, I laid down and quickly let sleep take me.
I hope you can see now why this is a day I had to write about. You always liked it when I sent you letters, and I know you’d be happy to see I didn’t give up entirely on this whole writing thing. I think you’d have liked it here, living in the van with me and having the whole world to ourselves. I miss you, Zach. I like to think that maybe you’re still out there somewhere, and that we just haven’t run into each other yet. It is a big world, after all. Mom would’ve been proud of you, I just know it, because I sure as hell am. I’ll write to you more soon, and I’ll keep leaving them in the same spot. If you ever come looking, I hope you know where you'll find me now.
– Still Surviving,
Danny