This World We Live In (The Last Survivors, Book 3) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Susan Beth Pfeffer
shaving cream I took for Matt.
So much stuff. It's amazing how much stuff people used to have.
After you've looted strangers' medicine cabinets, you don't feel much guilt when you go through their chests of drawers. I only took socks. I could have taken underwear, but the idea of wearing someone else's disgusted me. Socks, though, were a whole other matter. If nothing else, Matt and Jon were going to need a lot of them.
The Shirley Court people didn't seem to be too outdoorsy. No rods or reels or wading boots. I found a couple of ski masks, though, so I threw them in for Matt and Jon to use if they slept outdoors.
Every house I went into had a bucket, and I took a couple of them and put one on each handlebar. I fil ed them with the smal er things, figuring after we emptied them, we could use them to hold rainwater.
I know I found more stuff, but it's hard to remember. Every thing was a treasure waiting to be remember. Every thing was a treasure waiting to be discovered.
34
There is nothing more beautiful than half a rol of toilet paper.
The best thing about my brand-new career as a burglar was being alone. For eight glorious hours I spoke to no one. I bumped into no one. I looked at no one. And no one spoke to me or bumped into me or looked at me.
I couldn't wait to show everybody al my loot. It was like trick-or-treating only a thousand times better.
Even so, there was a part of me that was sad at the thought of giving up the quiet, unshared space.
But after eight hours I was cold, hungry, and tired. I made sure everything was securely in place and began the bike ride home.
Matt, Jon, and I had agreed to meet by the mailbox so Mom would think we'd stayed together.
Matt was already there when I got back, and Jon showed up a couple of minutes later. Al our bikes were loaded.
Mom tried to look disapproving, but I could see her eyes light up as we brought in our loot. After a while she got into the whole Christmasy feel.
"My brand of shampoo," she said. "Oh, and look at this. I haven't had a crossword puzzle to do in months!"
Of course we oohed and aahed over the rods and reels and flies and nets and wading boots and salt containers. Matt had also found an unopened bag of cat food for Horton and a cordless power saw that stil had some power to it.
Neither one of them had thought to take the toilet paper or soap or any of the useful stuff I'd located.
But I can always go back to the houses they went through.
As far as I was concerned, though, Jon found the absolute best thing. He was positively giddy when he handed a
35
box to me. "I tried two of them," he said. "They both worked, so I bet they al do."
It wasn't a big box, but I was so excited about what I'd find, my hands shook as I opened it. In the box were twenty-four flashlight pens, al neatly inscribed
"Walter's Realty Your Home Is Our Business."
I flicked one on and sure enough it worked.
"Now you can write in your journal without using a flashlight," Jon said.
I could have kissed him. In fact, I'm writing this entry after everyone else has gone to sleep, thanks to Walter's Realty. If I ever buy a house, I'l give them my business.
May 6
Mom wouldn't let us go through any more houses.
"You've found enough," she said. "Stealing isn't a game."
"We're not stealing," Matt said.
"Taking things without permission," Mom said. "It's as good as stealing."
But I didn't notice her hesitating to do one of the crossword puzzles.
May 7
Matt and Jon went to town to pick up our food, and I was too jumpy to stay in the house.
"I'm going to Mrs. Nesbitt's," I said, and I was pleased Mom didn't make a fuss about stealing.
The first thing I located was a manual can opener, for Matt and Jon. None of us had thought to pick one up on Saturday. I never thought of Mrs. Nesbitt as one to travel, but sure enough, she had a cosmetic bag hidden away, with
36
a tissue packet, a little bar of soap, and three packets of hand sanitizer. She'd left a quarter rol of
So much stuff. It's amazing how much stuff people used to have.
After you've looted strangers' medicine cabinets, you don't feel much guilt when you go through their chests of drawers. I only took socks. I could have taken underwear, but the idea of wearing someone else's disgusted me. Socks, though, were a whole other matter. If nothing else, Matt and Jon were going to need a lot of them.
The Shirley Court people didn't seem to be too outdoorsy. No rods or reels or wading boots. I found a couple of ski masks, though, so I threw them in for Matt and Jon to use if they slept outdoors.
Every house I went into had a bucket, and I took a couple of them and put one on each handlebar. I fil ed them with the smal er things, figuring after we emptied them, we could use them to hold rainwater.
I know I found more stuff, but it's hard to remember. Every thing was a treasure waiting to be remember. Every thing was a treasure waiting to be discovered.
34
There is nothing more beautiful than half a rol of toilet paper.
The best thing about my brand-new career as a burglar was being alone. For eight glorious hours I spoke to no one. I bumped into no one. I looked at no one. And no one spoke to me or bumped into me or looked at me.
I couldn't wait to show everybody al my loot. It was like trick-or-treating only a thousand times better.
Even so, there was a part of me that was sad at the thought of giving up the quiet, unshared space.
But after eight hours I was cold, hungry, and tired. I made sure everything was securely in place and began the bike ride home.
Matt, Jon, and I had agreed to meet by the mailbox so Mom would think we'd stayed together.
Matt was already there when I got back, and Jon showed up a couple of minutes later. Al our bikes were loaded.
Mom tried to look disapproving, but I could see her eyes light up as we brought in our loot. After a while she got into the whole Christmasy feel.
"My brand of shampoo," she said. "Oh, and look at this. I haven't had a crossword puzzle to do in months!"
Of course we oohed and aahed over the rods and reels and flies and nets and wading boots and salt containers. Matt had also found an unopened bag of cat food for Horton and a cordless power saw that stil had some power to it.
Neither one of them had thought to take the toilet paper or soap or any of the useful stuff I'd located.
But I can always go back to the houses they went through.
As far as I was concerned, though, Jon found the absolute best thing. He was positively giddy when he handed a
35
box to me. "I tried two of them," he said. "They both worked, so I bet they al do."
It wasn't a big box, but I was so excited about what I'd find, my hands shook as I opened it. In the box were twenty-four flashlight pens, al neatly inscribed
"Walter's Realty Your Home Is Our Business."
I flicked one on and sure enough it worked.
"Now you can write in your journal without using a flashlight," Jon said.
I could have kissed him. In fact, I'm writing this entry after everyone else has gone to sleep, thanks to Walter's Realty. If I ever buy a house, I'l give them my business.
May 6
Mom wouldn't let us go through any more houses.
"You've found enough," she said. "Stealing isn't a game."
"We're not stealing," Matt said.
"Taking things without permission," Mom said. "It's as good as stealing."
But I didn't notice her hesitating to do one of the crossword puzzles.
May 7
Matt and Jon went to town to pick up our food, and I was too jumpy to stay in the house.
"I'm going to Mrs. Nesbitt's," I said, and I was pleased Mom didn't make a fuss about stealing.
The first thing I located was a manual can opener, for Matt and Jon. None of us had thought to pick one up on Saturday. I never thought of Mrs. Nesbitt as one to travel, but sure enough, she had a cosmetic bag hidden away, with
36
a tissue packet, a little bar of soap, and three packets of hand sanitizer. She'd left a quarter rol of
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