Avery had seriously considered driving one of the cars, she hadn't driven in so long it would have been nice to get behind the wheel again but then she wouldn't have time to watch people or sketch them. Already she'd filled 5, almost 6 pages of the particularly expressive and it didn't seem like she was going to slow down any time soon. The landscape made for quick scribbles during quiet times, rusted out cars and decaying houses all made appearances within the pages.
Before the end Avery hadn't enjoyed buses but this was nice. It was something akin to a creature comfort and she drifted into a dreamless sleep as the large bus trundled along the highway, weaving between long abandoned cars. When they stopped at one of the small towns, Avery stretched her legs and disappeared into little collection of houses; she scored some jarred fruits and vegetables, a couple boxes of crackers and another notebook, as well as a few pencils and markers. She'd have to keep an eye out for charcoals and fine-tipped pens.
This second notebook became the official sketchbook of the trip and Avery poured all of her energy into filling its pages as she had the other. Before drifting off she tucked the book into the pocket of the seat before and slept until the push of her bladder woke her. Thankfully, Avery had woken up at just the right time and rushed outside to wait her turn behind the van. How glamourous the apocalypse was.
When she had returned to her seat, she found someone already there and flipping through her notebook no less. "Has anyone ever told you, you shouldn't touch things that aren't yours?" Avery asked. Her tone wasn't mean or cutting, but there was an edge to it. Avery didn't mind that she was looking, not really but that she didn't ask.