The town didn't have a name on the map anymore.
Just a single gas station, a run-down hardware store, and a flickering sign that once promised Low Prices Every Day. The sky hung heavy and colorless above, pressing the streets flat.
Jayden and Layla had walked two days since leaving Rhea's cabin. The last of their food was gone, their feet raw. Hunger wasn't a pain anymore — it was a hum, a constant static that blurred thought into instinct.
When they reached the gas station, Layla stopped first. "There's light inside."
Jayden scanned the lot. "Could be workers. Could be traps."
"Could be dinner," she said softly.
He looked at her. Her face was thinner than it had been a week ago. The shadows under her eyes were deep, her lips cracked. They were running on fumes — body and spirit both.
He exhaled. "We go quiet. In and out. No heroics."
---
The Plan
The place was small — a single aisle, a counter, and a radio playing low static behind the register. No cameras. No car outside.
Jayden checked the door. Unlocked.
He looked at Layla. "You grab food. I'll handle the register."
"Handle?" she asked.
"Make sure we don't owe anyone anything."
She frowned but nodded.
They slipped inside. The air smelled like dust and old oil. Layla went for the shelves — cans, crackers, jerky. Jayden moved behind the counter, opened the till. Empty.
He cursed under his breath. The drawers below it held nothing but old receipts and a box of .22 shells.
Layla whispered, "Jay, hurry."
"I'm trying."
Then a sound — a cough.
---
The Witness
A man stepped out from the back room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair was white, his face weathered, his clothes grease-stained.
He froze when he saw them. "What the hell—"
Jayden raised his hand instinctively. "We're not here to hurt you."
The man's gaze flicked to Layla, to the cans in her bag. "You robbing me?"
"No," Jayden said, voice calm. "Just borrowing."
The old man reached for something behind the counter — maybe a bat, maybe worse.
Jayden moved fast, grabbing his wrist. They struggled. The man was stronger than he looked. Layla shouted something — he didn't hear.
The old man's hand slipped, knocking the radio from the shelf. It hit the ground, bursting into static.
Jayden shoved him back — not hard, but enough to send him into the wall. The man slumped, dazed but breathing.
Layla's eyes were wide. "Jay, what did you—"
"He's fine. Let's go."
They ran.
---
The Alarm
Outside, the air smelled like rust and rain. Jayden tossed the bag over his shoulder, sprinting across the lot. But as they reached the edge of the road, a siren wailed — a long, metallic cry.
Layla's breath caught. "How—"
"The radio," Jayden said. "Trip alarm. Some stations rig them up."
They cut through the alley, feet splashing through puddles. Behind them, lights flickered on in the houses. Voices shouted.
"Go!" Jayden barked.
Layla ran ahead, the bag clutched tight. They crossed a chain-link fence, landed hard on the other side. The siren still echoed, bleeding into the night.
By the time it stopped, their lungs were on fire.
---
The Fallout
They collapsed under an overpass a mile out of town. Rain dripped through the cracks above, cold and rhythmic.
Layla ripped open a can of beans with trembling hands. The food was cold, metallic, perfect.
Jayden leaned back, closing his eyes. The adrenaline still burned in his chest.
"You didn't have to hit him," Layla said quietly.
"He would've called someone."
"He was an old man."
He opened his eyes. "Old men built the cages we grew up in."
She stared at him. "You don't believe that."
He didn't answer.
They ate in silence.
---
The Confrontation
Later, when the rain slowed, Layla stood. "We can't keep doing this, Jay."
He looked up. "Doing what?"
"Running, stealing, fighting. Becoming what they said we were."
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And what do you want me to do? Starve with dignity?"
She crossed her arms. "I want you to remember who you are."
He stood too, his voice sharp. "Who I am got locked up. Who I am got left behind."
Her eyes softened, but her words didn't. "Then maybe you're still running from him, not them."
He turned away, staring out into the rain. The truth stung more than the cold.
---
The Stranger Returns
The sound came from the bridge — a car door closing.
Jayden tensed. Layla ducked low.
A flashlight beam swept the shadows. Then a voice: "You two really need to pick better hiding spots."
It was Rhea.
She stepped under the overpass, calm, dry, her coat unbothered by the storm.
Jayden's jaw tightened. "You following us?"
"Not exactly," she said. "You're just easy to find when you set off alarms."
Layla stepped forward. "What do you want?"
"To help," Rhea said. "Same offer as before. But now, you've proven you can survive. That makes you valuable."
Jayden frowned. "Valuable how?"
She smiled faintly. "Ever think about using those instincts for something bigger than survival?"
He shook his head. "We're not mercenaries."
"Didn't say you were," she replied. "But there are others like you — ghosts who hit the system where it hurts. Safehouses, raids, extraction routes. I could take you there."
Layla's eyes searched hers. "Why should we believe you?"
Rhea shrugged. "You shouldn't. But staying out here will kill you faster."
---
The Choice
The rain picked up again, drumming against the concrete. Jayden looked at Layla. Her eyes were full of quiet questions, and fear, and something dangerously close to hope.
He looked back at Rhea. "If we say yes, and it's a trap—"
"Then you'll know by morning," she said.
He studied her face — steady, unreadable. The same calm she'd worn the night they met.
Finally, he said, "One more mistake won't kill us."
Rhea's smile was almost kind. "Not if you learn from it."
---
The Sketch
They followed her car back toward the horizon. The lights of the nameless town faded behind them.
Jayden pulled out his sketchbook as the rain streaked the windows. He drew the gas station — the radio on the floor, the man's startled eyes, the blur of movement that almost turned fatal.
At the bottom, he wrote:
We don't steal because we're bad. We steal because the world already took everything.
He closed the book and stared out at the dark. The hum of the engine mixed with the rain, and for the first time in a long while, he didn't know if they were escaping or being delivered.