Who the fuck cares whether she is 17 or 18?


The age of consent in most states is between 15 and 18.

"All will be revealed in the end, my young padawan."

I didn't find any obvious holes in the story line, Swindle. Disregard all these puritans who are hung up about Sam's age. It seems that she and Nick are reasonably happy and monogamous, and they are together by free will. It could have gone a lot worse for her. I guess some believe that being forced into sexual bondage is morally superior compared to having sex prior to your 18th birthday. It could stand to be a little edgier for my taste, but I like it just fine the way it is.

Like I said a few chapters back, this is the happy part of the story.

Need more!!!

Patience, my young padawan. Allow me to impart some wisdom:

When the author is spending all day, every day, and even some nights out at the range qualifying with a Sig P229 for both state and federal law enforcement requirements, the story the author is writing tends to be put on hold.

Now if you'll excuse me, both my trigger fingers (we have to qualify with both hands; good thing I'm ambidextrous!) and my thumb are sore from loading magazines and then unloading them at paper a few hundred times each. I don't think typing is what I should be doing right now.

John Wayne would type right now... Just kidding, been screwing off all day on my book myself. You know, I know the truck in the story is a Tatra, but for some reason when I see it in my mind, it's always an Alvis Stalwart. Looking forward to the next chapter.

Reading this really reminds me of the Fallout series...ghouls, mutants, the wasteland...

Except for fifteen minutes of Fallout 3 that a friend let me try in January, I've no experience with Fallout.



Also, despite my having derailed my own thread into exactly the direction I didn't want it to go , there's a strong possibility of a new chapter this weekend.

Its actually very similar...Fallout 1 and 2 took place in Southern and Central California after nuclear war in 2077...Fallout 3 takes place in D.C., as you know...I'm really loving this...



 

Well, no giant robots stomping around blowing up communists in my story.

YET



 

Ever.

I'll save that for the next one.

I've been asked to provide some reference art for Sam and Nick. Specifically, I've been asked to post pics of equipment, weapons, and characters that inspired me when designing my own characters.

Why, you ask? Why because From Sea To Shining Sea is getting its very own fan art, of course!

So, without further ado, reference images for the characters and equipment seen in FSTSS:






I wanted Nick to have a unique trench coat with an oversized mandarin collar similar to the one worn by Vash the Stampede from Trigun (yes, anime influences a lot of my character design), but then I discovered the unnamed werewolf Captain from the Hellsing series. His coat is darn near identical to what I imagined Nick would wear and it's even close to the right color. The cap I decided to add to the character as a nod to the inspiration source, and besides: they're cool. And being made from wool with fold-down ear and chin covers, they're darn handy for the winter weather Nick would have to deal with on a regular basis. So I gave Nick a reproduction cap, minus the Nazi insignia. It's not in the story yet, but Nick's is a gift from his grandfather, who gave it to Nick to wear because Nick liked the one his grandpa wore as a war trophy from WWII.



Nick's M-23 Pioneer chest rig. Sam wears a generic chest rig designed for AR magazines.

AK-102 with Ultimak optics mount and red dot sight; this is the closest reference photo I have to Nick's SLR-106. The photo is an NFA SBR with a four-piece Krinkov flash suppressor; Nick's SLR is a 16" rifle with the muzzle brake. I used to have an image of a rifle set up exactly the way Nick's is, but it was on my other computer, which is now dead.







I originally  based Sam's physical description on that of Kino from Kino No Tabi; Kino No Tabi (Kino's Journey or Kino's Travels, depending on translation) is about a teenage girl who pretends to be a boy to keep herself safe (and honor another person named Kino, without getting  bogged down in the series plot) and rides around on a talking Brough Superior motorcycle seeing the world. The books (and the thirteen episode anime series loosely based on them) are very similar to The Little Prince, and the character intrigued me. Personality-wise, Sam and Kino are almost nothing alike, but I kept aspects of the physical description: her hair length and style, small frame, etc.





Night Desert parka worn by Sam; I always liked this unique, if somewhat useless, camo pattern but never got myself a parka (much less pants) in the pattern because they tend to go for $50 or more on surplus websites. Last year I found one at a gun show that hadn't faded (they're two shades of green, but fade to a uniform gray after repeated washings) for $5 and snagged it, instantly falling in love. Naturally, I had to fit it into the story and decided that Sam would wear it since I'd already picked out what Nick was wearing. Despite being nearly thirty years old and having gone through a nuclear apocalypse, Sam's Night Desert parka has miraculously managed not to fade or bleed color.





Multicam universal camouflage. Both Sam and Nick wear Multicam BDU's as their standard dress.  They have an assortment of other camouflage patterns, ranging from the generic to the exotic, that they can change to if it blends in with the local environment better than Multicam does.



East German rain camo, which Nick made Hope wear while scavenging the ghost town. An example of one of the more specialized camo patterns Nick and Sam possess. This stuff would blend in perfectly with the pine trees and fallen leaves in Ohio. In the green areas, not so much.









Tatra 813 trucks, both cargo and armored rocket artillery versions. As has been previously stated, the Tatra in the story is a fictional blending of the two, with the cargo version's bed and all-around windows but the armored cab and shutters of the rocket artillery version.



I basically picture a less annoying version of this when I think of Eli. I think Eli's acting is a little less wooden too.



This is NOT material upon which I based Hope's appearance, nor does it bear any but the vaguest resemblance to her. It's simply the closest thing I could find to her off-white traveling cloak. I picture Hope's outfit as looking more... ren-fest style,  but actually practical for daily wear. Note that "practical" doesn't apply to her choice of colors when just about everyone else in the wastelands is wearing earth tones or camouflage.

Seriously, you have no idea how much time I wasted on google trying to find something close to Hope's outfit and finally selecting this out of frustration.

Well ?

Hold your horses, son. It's getting there.

Well Swindle, I never said anything about Nick and Sam because...they like their privacy, you know....

I think you repeated that enough where it was obvious something was going one between them. And since I'm sure you didn't intend this as a gay coming of age story (you have no idea how happy I am to be right about that one!), I figured that Sam was really a girl. And since I've seen it used as a plot device in some movies, I was just content to let the story develop and let you reveal it when it was appropriate.

OK, so now that the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, when are you going to give us a little more descriptive image of Sam? Long black hair....obviously athletic....and, what???

Long? Her hair ain't long. It isn't even shoulder length.

As for Sam and Nick liking their privacy... without spoiling things, this is really just the tip of the iceberg.

Next chapter's gonna be delayed probably until this coming weekend; had a continuity error I had to get resolved and ended up needing to scrap what I had and start over again.

OK, my mistake. I made an assumption after reading this line:

"She took off the cap she wore to keep the sun out of her eyes and tucked her hair under it".

That doesn't indicate that her hair is long, only that it's long enough that she'd want to hide it...

OK, next chapter......

Well?

We're waiting . ...and waitng...and waiting

Yeah, unfortunately, life has a way of interfering with stuff.

Glad to hear you're OK.  Take your time

Yup, doing just fine. Just happen to be busy is all. Got a little over three weeks of training left.

Oh, and I may finally be getting a decent SHTF EBR to replace my defective WASR-10 soon. Very unlikely to be an SLR-106 like I want (and Nick has) though.

Loving this!

Wish I had one smidgen of your talent and ability.

Cant wait for more!

Yeah, we're in the last couple weeks of my LEO/NPS training and I'm spending more time studying and working out than writing.

Sorry.

What is going on in your life right now?  

I know its not smart to give to much detail here, but what your doing sounds really interesting.

I finally solved that continuity problem. It helps that I finally had a chance to sit down and think it through for five minutes.

Don't hold your breath, but I now only need to sit down and write out the next chapter.

I'm holding it








 

Tagged.  Remember page 3




Just a bookmark  

Vulcan94

WOW!!!! Awesome story!!! Your character development and plot descriptions are TOP NOTCH, keep this  up, we are all looking forward to more coming down the pipe!!! Thanks as well for keeping this one clean from sex/language and crap, it makes it much more enjoyable to read a good ol' post-apocalypse story.

Did you somehow miss the whole plot line where Sam and Nick were getting it on?

I've started writing the next chapter. No idea when it'll be finished as real life continues to interfere.

Hey when we gettin a new chapter

\

You wanna know when you're gettin' a new chapter? YOU WANNA KNOW WHEN YOU'RE GETTING A NEW FUCKING CHAPTER?!

YOU'RE GETTING A NEW FUCKING CHAPTER RIGHT NOW, BITCH!




Weeeell, the first half, anyway. Not quite done writing it, so you'll have to make do with this.


Chapter 14
––––––––––––––––––

The truck pulled over and Nick shut the engine off, stretching in his seat and wincing as something in his back popped.

"I gotta teach you to drive, doing it all myself is killing me. At least my butt made a nice indentation in the seat so it stops going to sleep after a few hours on the road."

"Why are we stopping here?"

"Got some work to do. Get out; we'll take the dogs with us."

After Nick checked to be sure the truck wasn't visible from the road, he went to the back and retrieved a pair of shovels. One was a full-sized shovel, but the other was a tiny folding shovel. Sam didn't really feel like digging, especially if she got the tiny shovel; it looked awkward. She followed him into the woods a few yards.

Nick checked the notebook he carried in his jacket pocket, looked around, and made a beeline for a large boulder. Someone had spraypainted 87 on it in faded fleuorescent paint. Nick turned to his right, then paused.

"Shit. There's supposed to be an oak tree over there. Hang on."

He consulted his notebook again, looked back to the right, and frowned. Putting away the notebook, he walked in the direction he'd been looking and wandered around for a bit.

"Ah, here it is! It fell down. Ok, then it's ten yards to the North-east."

Nick immediately headed in a direction Sam couldn't readily identify as being any particular point on the compass; Nick hadn't consulted the compass in his gear and it was overcast, so he couldn't have judged direction by looking at the sun. She dismissed as yet another skill she needed to learn and followed, scratching at a mosquito bite. Nick finally stopped at the base of a cedar tree, indistinguishable from any of the others around them except that it had a signing declaring that there was no hunting or trespassing allowed on private property nailed to its trunk. The sign was also badly faded and beginning to rust. Nick took the full-sized shovel and began digging.

"What are you doing?"

"Remember how I said my dad was a survivalist? He was pretty hard-core into it. Made a living off of it, actually. People paid him to teach them stuff. Used to be special forces in the army, grew up on a farm, so he knew everything you needed to know. Mom was a registered nurse, then quit to homeschool me after I came around. Her parents were convinced the Russians were gonna nuke us any day now and they had to be prepared, so she got along with my dad pretty well, even if the lifestyle got on her nerves now and then. Anyway," he grunted as he dug up and tossed aside a rock, "my dad had a good amount of money since he didn't owe anybody anything and did a lot to bring in an income. One of his nuttier ideas was to put at least one cache in every state in the US except Hawaii. Didn't like Hawaii. Said the Chinese or somebody would take it when the balloon went up. Mom always thought it was a waste of money. Me? I'm kinda appreciating it. I've found five so far. Would've been six, but the landmarks for one had been moved around so I couldn't find it. Three of them were already dug up when I got there though. Too many people with metal detecters. You gonna help?"

Sam grimaced and picked up the little shovel, unfolding it, and began to dig.

"How far down is it?"

"Not far, about four feet. We gotta hurry though, looks like it's gonna rain."

She tried not to groan as she tossed aside a second shovelful of dirt.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––-

Sam climbed into the back of the truck and flopped on top of a conveniently located wooden crate labeled in Russian. It looked like it held ammunition, or did originally. She was exhausted, sore, muddy, and her hands were blistered. At least she was out of the rain now.

"So what's in the pipe?"

"Dunno. I'll open it in a minute."

Nick was busy removing his jacket, chest rig, and gunbelt. Next went his boots, and then it became very clear that he was changing his clothes right in front of her.

"Um, do you want me turn around, or..."

"Huh? Oh. If you want. Not like it matters. Not gonna get much privacy sharing a tent, you know."

Sam turned around, but kept glancing in Nick's direction as he stripped out of his wet, muddy clothes and began putting on dry replacements from a plastic tub full of BDU's and other clothing. He had a scar on his left buttcheek where she'd actually shot him with the .22. She quickly turned her head and blushed as he pulled a shirt on and turned around.

"Here. They're even looser than what you've got on, but they should fit. We'll get you some real clothes when we get out to Cummings, they have a nice surplus store that's still in business."

Sam caught the BDU pants and t-shirt he tossed her, then hesitated. Nick sat down and began prying on the lid to the large PVC pipe they'd out of the ground, trying to unscrew it. He was facing in her direction. Blushing again, she turned her back on him and quickly peeled off the wet shirt that was sticking to her, then pulled the dry one on. This one was Nick's size and came down well past her waist. She emptied her pockets and removed the Mauser in its holster, then stripped off her boots. She hesitated, glanced back at Nick, who was fully engrossed in opening the pipe and not paying her any attention, then pulled her pants off and hurriedly changed into the BDU pants he'd tossed her. Even with her belt, they still felt like she was wearing a circus tent around her waist. She finished changing and turned to see Nick struggling to open the pipe with a large wrench.

"Son of a bitch this thing won't budge! Hand me a hacksaw, would you?"

She opened the tool kit and found the hacksaw. He immediately attacked the pipe with it, making an expression of determination and frustration that, frankly, looked pretty funny. She smiled slightly as she sat back down and watched him. He hadn't looked while she was changing. Or cared. Of course, he'd seen her naked when he'd bandaged her up after he first rescued her, but that wasn't the same thing. She could trust him.

She really was safe here. Like nowhere else.

"Here, let me have a turn at it."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––-

The cache had contained an SKS rifle with three hundred rounds of ammunition in a Chinese bandolier, a box of 9mm ammunition, a hunting knife, and enough canned goods to feed two people for a day. It also had a map of the area, a flashlight, and spare batteries that weren't any good. Sam almost didn't consider it worth all the effort of digging it up since they had plenty of firearms, and far better ones, but the food made it worthwhile. They were running fairly low on rations since they'd run out of bread and jerky, which she'd finally gotten used to as a regular meal. The only food they had left that didn't come out of a can was a pouch half full of dried blueberries. Those were reserved for special occasions, or basically whenever Nick decided they needed dessert after a meal.

"We can trade the rifle for some clothes that'll fit you when we get to Cummings. I wanna keep the ammo since it's factory. Probably toss in some reloads for the rifle to sweeten the deal."

"What about food?"

"Don't worry about it. I got some silver jewelry I can barter with. The main thing we gotta worry about is fuel. That's gonna be a problem. The refinery doesn't send much fuel this far west, so it's going to be expensive."

She nodded seriously, then took note of her baggy clothing. The silence was broken only by the steady purr of the motor and the rain pounding against the steel of the truck cabin.

"Warn me before we get to Cummings, ok?"

"Ok. Why?"

"I want to cover up my face with something," she said, as she began to tuck her hair under her hat.

Nick glanced over at her, then returned his attention to the road.

"Ok."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––-

It had worked. No one in Cummings had suspected she was a girl; one person had even called her "sir". She'd broken her cover when someone asked her a question and she'd answered, startling the people gathered around the truck. That had been embaressing; she hadn't thought before speaking, and her feminine voice was unmistakable. She'd remained silent the rest of the time they were in Cummings.

Nick, for his part, had said nothing regarding her gender to anyone in town. He'd simply referred to her as Sam or "my partner". That last one made her happy. If they were partners, it meant they were together. Her entire life, things had been very unstable for Sam as she tried to survive in a hostile world, and she'd recently lost both her parents and every other tie to her past. Nick and that giant truck of his were the only solid things she could latch on to, and the fact that Nick seemed to have accepted her into his largely solitary existence meant she had a home. Well, a home that was constantly on the move, but a home nonetheless. She also had to admit to a degree of hero worship regarding Nick, which was rapidly developing into a crush.

They'd traded the rifle and some reloaded ammunition for it, plus some silver charm bracelets, for food, fuel, and clothing. Nick was certain the fuel was mostly bad, but seemed confident that the truck would burn it anyway. The engine was designed to burn just about any combustible liquid.

Once they were on the move again, Sam crawled into the backseat and changed into the clothes they'd bought. Nick had been right; there had been a surplus store in town that had a decent stock of clothing remaining. Most of it had been size small or even extra small, so it fit her perfectly. There had even been a pair of jungle combat boots, worn but servicable, in her size. She gladly discarded the baggy BDU's she'd been wearing and slid into one of the new ones. This set was green with brown splotches and black stripes, like tiger stripes. It came with a matching brimmed hat that was very floppy. She couldn't tuck her hair under it like she could with her cap, but it'd be nice to wear if the rain picked up again. She examined herself, then frowned. The uniform fit perfectly; too perfectly. Her figure was obviously feminine, even with the BDU jacket buttoned, especially since she wasn't starved skinny any more. She pulled on the oversized Night Desert parka again and became satisfied that it was impossible to tell her gender except up close. She crawled back into the front seat, nearly sitting on the large doberman puppy in the process. Nick glanced at her.

"Looks good. They fit pretty well. I've got a spare chest rig you can wear, once we figure out which rifle is best for you. I'm guessing it won't be the FAL."

He smirked as he said this, but she didn't know what an FAL was, so the in-joke was lost on her.

"Tigerstripe camo works pretty well around here, and those woodland BDU's we got you, like the ones of mine you had on before, work okay too. But they really stand out in the dry areas, especially in winter or the middle of summer. We'll have to get you some Multicam, like me. " He paused for a moment, then continued, "I'm wearing a set of my dad's. Outgrew the ones he had for me, and I didn't keep them once I got too big for them. Traded 'em. But there's a spot a couple hundred miles ahead where he and I used to go hunting; we'd take a week off to drive out here, hunt for a few days, then drive back. That was back when you could actually drive fast, when the roads were good and nobody was ambushing people. We should get there in a couple days and I can see if the old cabin is intact. It's just a plywood shack, in the middle of nowhere, so I doubt anybody's found it. If it's still there and mice haven't gotten into everything, there should be a couple sets of Multicam that'll fit you. Maybe a box or two of hunting ammo."

She nodded politely, not really having anything to say.

"So... you're hiding the fact that you're a girl, now?"

Sam was silent for a moment, then responded, "Why not. Strangers are dangerous, and girls are targets. Food, guns, and girls. That's all anybody cares about, and they'll do whatever they can to get them."

There was silence in the truck for a while. Then Nick said, "We'll have to give you a haircut then. Keep your hair shorter than it is. Not too short though," He turned and winked at her before returning his attention to the road. "Don't want you looking too much like a boy now."

Sam stared at her feet, wiggling her toes in her new boots. Nick had done so much for her. Rescuing her from being raped and enslaved, or maybe just raped and murdered. Nursing her back to health. Keeping her with him instead of dumping her on somebody else. Teaching her the skills she needed to survive on her own instead of keeping her reliant on him for protection and shelter. Using up his food, clean water, medical supplies, and more, all things he could have used for himself. Spending his barter goods on her. It was hard to believe that in this day and age, someone would just go to all that effort for someone who was effectively a complete stranger just out of the kindness of their heart. These days, people had an ulterior motive for everything. Since she was female, the ulterior motive of a male helping her out was easy to figure out. But Nick hadn't made a move on her. He'd shown himself to be completely trustworthy and respectful toward her.

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do all of this for me?"

"Didn't you already ask me this?"

"I want to know."

Nick didn't seem annoyed or confused; he probably understood her mental process better than she did, having gone through something very similar.

"Because we can't all be selfish bastards looking out for number one. Because somebody has to do something civilized for someone that isn't immediate family or part of their little community. Because every boy fantasizes about being a knight in shining armor saving a damsel in distress and grown men never really abandon that fantasy. And because it gets pretty frigging lonely sometimes. Life is like some sort of nightmare, sometimes better and sometimes worse, but either way you can never wake up from it. Everybody's been through this shit, but you're probably the closest to understanding what I went through as a kid and I'm probably the closest you'll ever have to someone who can understand what you've been through. After I was left on my own, I didn't have anybody to help me out. I had to do it all on my own, the hard way, and when the universe wasn't actively trying to kill me I repeatedly came close to doing it myself because I didn't know what I was doing and made stupid mistakes. You're right; strangers are dangerous and can't be trusted. I hooked up with a little family that promised to take me in once, when I was 17. Sons of bitches shared what little they had with me for days, gaining my trust. Then they tried to drug me and sell me as slave labor. So I know what you're going through."

He looked over at her and locked eyes for several seconds, ignoring the jarring thud as the truck drove through a pothole that was more like an asteroid crater.

"I understand."

He returned his attention to the road and drove around the next pothole, cursing under his breath when the engine made a coughing sound because of the bad fuel, but returned to its usual rumble quickly.

After almost a minute of contemplation and more silence, Sam scooted across the seat, disturbing the two dogs, and cuddled up against Nick, hugging him.

"Thank you."

He merely grunted in reply, but after a few moments put one arm around her shoulder.

The truck rolled on.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––-

"So where are we going?"

Sam loved the new Multicam fatigues; they didn't blend in with the surrounding foliage as well as the tigerstripe did, but they matched what Nick wore and he looked quite dapper in them, she thought. She hurriedly unbuttoned her tigerstripe jacket and replaced it with the Multicam jacket, then after a moment's hesitation, dumped out her pockets and dropped her pants so she could put on ones that matched her new jacket. Nick raised an eyebrow, but didn't avert his eyes. He simply didn't seem to care about being flashed a little panty, as if he were above such things. If he could be above a silly thing like modesty, then so could she. At least, when it was safe.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're always moving, right? You don't have any place that you normally stay most of the time.

"Not any more, no. Not since a few months before I found the truck. I don't like being tied to one place. You get to feeling too secure, you get into habits, and when you're by yourself that makes you an easy target for bandits. Staying on the move is better, if it's possible."

"So where are we going? If we're always moving, we have to be headed somewhere, right?"

Nick scratched his head and looked around the musty hunting cabin.

"Not really. I haven't had a goal in mind since I left home and hit the east coast. That was a mistake. I was stupid and thought that if there any relief efforts from overseas, they'd be at the coast and I could find food and shelter there as they restored civilization. Big mistake. Nobody gave a rat's ass about the United States if they didn't get something out of it, and the east coast was the most heavily nuked part of the country. Found out later that I'd wandered through a forbidden zone, hot as hell from the radiation. You can't feel radiation, can't see it or smell it. It just hurts you and you don't even know it until you get sick and die from it. I never got sick; no idea how big a dose I absorbed, but now I keep a dosimeter and geiger counter on me all the time."

"So you just keep moving at random?"

"Not at random. I keep maps, find communities that are safe to visit. Most of the time I scavenge ghost towns and farm houses for anything I can trade, so I can get food to keep me alive and fuel to keep moving. I've been driving around in circles visiting all these communities for weeks now; that's how I know the area."

Sam finished transferring her meager possessions into her pockets and buckled the belt with the broomhandle Mauser and its stripper clips around her waist.

"But you don't have any place you want to go to?"

"Well, I guess we could always head west, back where things didn't get bombed into the stone age near as bad, but no, I don't really know of any place that I'd want to visit. I could always see if there's more of dad's caches to dig up, but frankly whatever's in them isn't worth the fuel it'd take to get there."

"There's an idea."

"What?"

"Head west. Where it didn't get bombed as badly. It won't have all that radiation like the east coast does, not as much anyway. And if they didn't get bombed as bad, then the people there will be in better shape. Maybe it'll be safer there."

"You've got more faith in humanity than I do."

"I doubt it. I feel like fresh meat any time we meet someone. But it's something. We could try for it, see how far west we can go. At the very least, it'll give us new places to search for things to trade, right?"

"Sure, I guess. Why not. It'd be good to have a goal. Something to achieve. It's been a while since I felt like I accomplished something beyond mere survival. All right. Let's head west. We've already started, coming this far, why not just keep going?"

That decided, Nick made another, brief search of the tiny, plywood cabin for anything useful. He didn't find anything new. There had been just an old ammo crate filled with several sets of camouflage uniforms, a hunting knife that had become badly rusted after years of neglect, and a tiny cupboard filled with dried goods that been spoiled by mice and age. The twin-size mattress set on a shelf on the wall had no bedding, and Nick had already policed the kerosene lantern hanging from the lantern and a small can of fuel for it, which likely wasn't any good since it had been opened and was nearly a dozen years old.

"Nick? Why don't we spend the night here? It's already getting dark, and I haven't slept in a real bed in forever. Sleeping on the ground or in the truck gets old quick."

"Sure, I guess. You can have the bed, I'll set up my sleeping bag on the floor."

"You don't have to sleep on the floor. I'm sure you'd like to sleep in a real bed too."

"It's a small bed."

"I don't mind sharing. It'll be warmer that way anyway."

Nick stared at her suspiciously for a long moment, then shrugged.

"Sure, why not. That truck seat is killing my back anyway."

––––––––––––––––––

Nick snored slightly, almost imperceptibly, as they lay back to back in the narrow bed. Both dogs slept on the floor, on a wool blanket Nick had laid out for them.

Sam shivered a little from the chill; the cabin wasn't very well insulated. She pressed up against Nick to absorb more of his body heat. They were both fully dressed, minus their shoes, which was how they slept in the truck. It was stilly chilly. She pulled the blanket up higher to cover her face and curled tighter into her fetal position. She didn't care about the cold. She had the comfort of a real bed for the first time in... she had no idea how long. And, she privately admitted to herself, it was nice sharing it with Nick. Not only for the shared warmth, but also because it simply felt safer that way. The world was a horrible, dangerous place and she had to be strong and deadly to survive in it; she knew that, that was why she had to become like Nick. But... she had somebody she could trust now. She didn't have to be strong and alert every single moment, because she had Nick there. She pushed herself tighter against his back and took comfort in allowing herself to feel small against him.

It was almost like having a family to depend on again. Almost.

Great...uh...Half a Chapter

I'm really liking how you progress the characters.

So, when will we get the next chapter?  

Thanks I thought the story had died.  

Ron

Sweet!

Thanks!

Thanks. I prefer that rather than simply presenting a character and saying "this is how they behave, deal with it", I'd rather the reader knew WHY they're like that.

Damnit what a tease........I'm patiently waiting for MORE

this is a great story, I see why it takes you so long to write a chapter.  You really try to get the detail correct.  I have tried for years to write stories, but never get very far when I realize I miss too much detail.

Sometimes, less is more.

Write. It's the only way to get better.

Thanks for the good read, Swindle. Hope to see the rest soon!

Finally the master returns.

Hey! No more Markypie fanfic on the story?

I'm predicting that if I don't get the rest of chapter 14 out by the end of the week, I'm going to come back and discover that Nick had a threesome with Sam and Hope while Eli learned how claymores work and saved a village from zombies.

Then Jerome and Beth from The Survivor show up and we find out they're swingers.

Also, Obama was the cause of the apocalypse.

I'm predicting that if I don't get the rest of chapter 14 out by the end of the week, I'm going to come back and discover that Nick had a threesome with Sam and Hope while Eli learned how claymores work and saved a village from zombies.

Then Jerome and Beth from The Survivor show up and we find out they're swingers.

Also, Obama was the cause of the apocalypse.

We already knew that.



 

We already knew that, too.