The dawn was pale and still as Jack, Sam, and Lila packed up camp, each of them quiet after the tense encounter with the Sanctified the night before. The memory of the fanatics lingered like a dark cloud over their heads, a constant reminder of how close danger was and how quickly it could strike. But Jack, ever the pragmatist, shook it off, his focus sharp as they prepared to move on.
“Keep your eyes open,” he muttered, his tone gruff. “Those Sanctified goons could be lurking anywhere. Last thing we need is another ‘welcome’ party.”
Sam and Lila nodded, their faces still pale from yesterday’s fight. But as they moved down the cracked, debris-strewn street, Jack felt something shift. Maybe it was the crisp morning air, maybe just the aftermath of a narrow escape, but he had a strange feeling today—a nagging sense that something might go right for once.
They stopped by an old storefront, the sign faded and crooked. The inside was gutted, shelves upturned, and dusty remnants littered the floor. But Jack’s eye caught on a small corner display, barely visible under the dirt and debris. He walked over, clearing some of the mess with his boot, and froze.
There, sitting in the corner of the shelf, was an unopened pack of cigarettes, still sealed in its plastic wrap.
“No way,” he muttered, crouching down to pick it up, his eyes widening as he inspected the find. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Sam looked over, curious. “What’d you find?”
Jack held up the pack, his grin a mixture of disbelief and excitement. “A fresh pack of smokes. Last time I saw one of these, I was knee-deep in a fallout shelter three cities over. Didn’t think there’d be any left.”
Lila gave him an odd look, half-amused, half-confused. “You’re that excited about… cigarettes?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, tucking the pack into his shirt pocket with exaggerated care. “Kid, out here, this is practically gold. A good smoke is worth more than half the junk we scrounge up on a good day.”
Sam chuckled, catching Jack’s mood. “Guess it’s the small comforts, huh?”
“More than you’d think,” Jack replied, his grin widening. He paused, glancing at the pack almost reverently before popping it open. He slipped a cigarette between his fingers, examining it like a rare artifact. “And besides, it’s been years since I had a decent smoke.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
They moved out of the shop and settled on a nearby ledge where Jack could take a moment to savor his prize. He lit the cigarette, took a long drag, and closed his eyes, savoring the taste as if it were the last pleasure he’d ever have. For a brief, fleeting moment, he felt like he was back in the old world, a time when he could sit with friends, shoot the breeze, and just… enjoy.
“Ah,” he sighed, blowing a perfect ring of smoke into the air. “Now that… that’s what I call a morning.”
Lila wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t it taste like… I don’t know, dirt?”
Jack chuckled, the sound full and rich. “Probably does. But after years of breathing in ash, smoke, and who knows what else, this is a luxury.” He took another drag, smirking. “Used to sneak smokes back in the day, before the world went up in flames. Had a whole stash my old man never found out about.”
Sam chuckled, amused. “You, sneaking around? Guess I pegged you wrong, Grizzly. Thought you were the by-the-book type.”
Jack shrugged, grinning. “I had my vices. Everyone did. Guess now I’ve got less competition, huh?” He leaned back, glancing up at the sky. “Maybe a couple buddies and I would get together after work, have a smoke, maybe a drink. Wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
He fell silent, memories stirring. For a moment, he let himself drift, remembering those days, the small rituals and friendships that had once been so important. Most people he’d known were long gone now, reduced to memories like ghostly imprints on his mind. He closed his eyes, taking one last drag before snuffing out the cigarette with a satisfied sigh.
“Alright,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual. “Break’s over.”
They resumed their trek with a renewed sense of purpose, Jack’s mood noticeably lighter. Even Sam and Lila seemed to catch on, their own steps a little steadier, their faces a bit less grim. Jack wasn’t sure if it was the nicotine or just the rare bit of normalcy that had done it, but he felt sharper, his humor edging out his usual wariness.
As they moved through the broken streets, he found himself chatting with Sam about life before the collapse, something he usually avoided. He mentioned a few funny mishaps from his past, little stories that got a smile out of Sam and even a giggle from Lila. Jack had almost forgotten how much he’d missed the simple act of laughing over a shared memory.
But as they passed a familiar crumbling building, his guard rose again. He knew better than to let the good moments linger too long. They only made the harder ones that much tougher to endure.
“Back on track,” he muttered, nodding toward the road ahead. “We’ve got a long way to go, and I’d rather not stick around to see if Magnus’s goons have doubled back.”
The reminder of Magnus cast a shadow over their momentary respite, but Jack noticed that he faced the road with a little more resolve now. He didn’t know what he’d find up ahead, but as long as he had a fresh pack of smokes tucked into his pocket, he figured he could take on whatever the wasteland threw at him.
They pressed on, each of them quieter now but feeling a little less alone. In this world, he reminded himself, it was the little things that kept you going. And for now, that was more than enough.