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No.
No no no no!
My backpack was gone.
I picked up the straps that were still wound in between my arms and looked in horrified disbelief at the ends that had been shorn clean through.
Someone had cut them while I slept and stolen the backpack right off me.
Son of a bitch!
I jumped to my feet and looked left and right, but whoever had done it was long gone. I’d been dead asleep for who knew how long after the days on the road, even in the uncomfortable bus station plastic chair.
Oh shit.
My hands went uselessly to my head as I looked back and forth from one end of the bus depot to the other.
My backpack had everything in it. My possessions. My money. Oh shit, it had my money. I raked my hands through my short hair.
I was so fucked.
I’d thought about getting one of those travel money belts that fit underneath your clothes, but in the end I hadn’t done it. I didn’t think I’d—
I threw the useless straps to the floor and fought angry tears that flooded my eyes.
To get so far and now to lose everything! What the hell was I going to do?! That backpack had everything. Even my tampons because my period was going to start next week. Shit! Shit shit shit shit!
“Do you have a ticket?” asked a voice from behind me. “You can’t be here overnight in the station unless you have a ticket for a morning bus.”
I spun around to see a guard eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yes. I mean, yes, I’m going to get on a bus in the morning.”
“Can I see your ticket?”
Shit. “It was too late when I got in. The ticket booth was closed. But I’ll buy a ticket first thing when it opens again.” Ha. With what money? Was I going to panhandle?
The guard frowned. “I’m gonna need to see some ID then.”
I blanched and the guard wasn’t an idiot. Neither was he moved when I tried to explain what had happened, even as I showed him the cut straps of my backpack.
“You need to exit the station or I’ll escort you out.”
“Well, you see, it’s a funny story. See these straps? I was robbed. Just now!”
The guard stood stoically, not seeming moved by my explanations and I couldn’t help getting frustrated. “You’re a guard on duty. Where were you when the thieves were stealing all my earthly possessions? Don’t you have cameras in this place? It should be caught on camera.”
But even as I heard myself say it, I got to my feet. “You know what, never mind. I’m out of here.”
Because was I really sitting here drawing so much attention to myself and even demanding we look at taped footage of me? Jesus, this was a red flag and the exact opposite of everything I’d promised myself I would do on this journey. I was meant to fade into the background, be completely inconspicuous so that no one would remember me or be able to describe me in case any of Jeff’s minions came looking.
I threw the stupid backpack straps into the trash and then stalked out of the station and into the cold February air of Oklahoma City.
A bold move considering I had nowhere to go and no idea what the hell I was going to do now.
All I had were the jeans, t-shirt, Converse, and oversized hoody I was wearing. Oh, and my socks, I also had my socks. And some chapstick I’d shoved in my pocket.
I wanted to beat myself over the head. What had I been thinking keeping my little clutch wallet in my backpack???
