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Is in some state of existence
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((Jordan Green continued from We're Here Because We're Here))

Jordan wasn't asleep.

He had been, for a while, but it was hard to stay asleep when the seats were hard, the air was cold and the couple that he'd somehow decided that it'd be a great idea to be a third wheel for decided that it would be the best time to go at it like- he didn't want to say rabbits, it sounded far too cliched, but it was the only word he could think of.

But what the fuck was he supposed to do about it? Interrupt them? As if he wasn't already feeling awkward enough just being there. And even if he were to interrupt, what was he supposed to say?

Did they even care that he was here, that he might hear them, that he was hearing them fucking in the back of some truck in the middle of god knew where? Would they even care if he shouted at them?

Oh god, what if they didn't care?

Wouldn't that be worse? It would be worse. Was that why they were doing this?

Nope. Doing anything sounded like a horrible idea. He was just going to lie there, and ignore everything that was going on, hoping that the sounds that somehow managed to get across the gap between the two trucks would end soon enough. He had placed a face towel over his face, hoping that the fabric would have muffled the sounds a little, but all he was doing was making himself even more uncomfortable than he should have been.

But they had to stop eventually, and then everything would be alright.

--

He didn't know when he had managed to fall asleep.

But Jordan had found himself waking up at some miserable hour of the night, his body aching from the umcomfortable sleeping position that he had found himself in.

He had expected to be rudely awoken, whether it was to take the next shift of watch or by the creaking from the next truck over, so it was weird that he had simply woken up by himself. Hazel was lying in the back of the truck, the jacket covering her a reminder that what happened earlier that night wasn't a figment of his imagination.

There was no way he was falling back asleep right now, so he quietly left the truck, doing his best not to wake her up.

He knocked lightly on the door of the other truck.

"Hey, you can get some rest now. I'm gonna take the next watch."

But the truck was empty, no one there, no bag, no sign that anyone had been there but the smell of sweat.

He was gone. Missing. Even his bag was gone.

What had happened? People didn't just disappear for no reason.

Was he in trouble? Were they in trouble?

"Jay?" The question echoed through the garage for a moment.

There was no reply, and Jordan suddenly felt as if he was completely alone in the garage.

"Hazel?"

He had rushed back to the truck.

She would know what to do better than him, right?

"Hazel, I can't find him!"
"I have the heart of a young boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" -- Stephen King

Those no longer with us

It's the Grand Map of Doom! v6
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