A heavy snow had fallen within the last hour. Owen had been cruising down the highway at a slow pace, the Camaro leaving deep tracks as it rolled down the stretch of pavement.

Owen was tired and the snow was getting heavy. He decided he would pull over somewhere close and sleep the night off with Lady and Rudy. It would soon be time to hide this Camaro somewhere. Replace it with a bigger, more versatile 4 wheel drive vehicle like a jeep or hummer. Something that could plow snow even. Getting that old SS stuck somewhere in the cold, snowy outback of post-apocalyptic America was not an option. Owen hated traveling by foot, and so did Lady and Rudy. The twins liked being in an automobile. The more roomy, the better.

Owen picked a spot about 10 feet in front of an abandoned car. He parked in front of it so if another car were to come in out of control, the abandoned vehicle would absorb most of the impact, and other cars driving by are less likely to notice you when you blend into the wreckage some. The key was having a car that was low-key, some dirt and wear never hurts in the camouflaged department. And that was another reason he wanted to stash the SS. It was a heatbag automobile. Guaranteed to attract attention, and ruffle greed's feathers. I mean, this entire situation inherently proved that fact to be bankable. People were going to notice this car, and they were going to want it. There were even people out there who would kill him for it. Collectors, antique dealers. That's where the real money scavenging is; collecting pre-crisis items and trading them to wealthy collectors and colony traders who missed the good 'ol days, and surrounded themselves with fragments of the old world to cope and have but a little sense of comfort and tragic nostalgia. The colonies were large strongholds founded by wealthy survivors who believed there was still something left of humanity and civilization. They walled off towns and guarded them, collecting pre-crisis shit to decorate their homes and shops, trying to live like nothing has happened.

Owen had heard some of them were doing well, but he didn't give two squirts of Rudy's piss, because it didn't matter. Common survivor peasants like him would never see the inside of one. Military/Government "Settlements" were the same shit, just a different, more exclusive and elitist pile.

He shut the car off, grabbing a quilt from the floor behind his seat. He laid it over Lady and Rudy; it was going to get cold tonight.

He grabbed yet another blanket and a pillow, putting his seat back all the way and made a mobile survivalist bed for himself.