"No, dude, it looks like a fetus..."

"What? No way...what the hell is that thing, then?"

"It has...an extra arm. It's a deformed fetus."

Tim tilted his head and squinted one eye, staring up at the clouds. "I still say it looks like a dragon..."

"Tim, dragons don't exist," Hollywood reminded him matter-of-factly. "Deformed fetuses do."

"Wouldn't the plural be feti?," Dana cut in.

The three of them were on their backs in the grassy field they'd found themselves stranded in. The sun was just coming up, breaking the heavy rainclouds apart as it spread light over the land. They'd contented themselves, for now, with picking shapes out of the clouds. Later, they figured, they'd start walking again to see if they could find some sort of civilization to steal another car from; although moving at daytime was more dangerous, it was also decidedly easier.

"What, like 'cacti'?," Tim questioned. "Never really thought about it before..."

"That's cuz no one ever thinks about shit like that, unless you suck as much as Dana does," Hollywood told him, smirking and earning a playful slap from Dana in response.

"I refuse to argue with someone who sees deformed feti in clouds," Dana said decisively, then sat up and looked around. "Maybe we should get going. As exciting as laying around in the grass like a bunch of hippies sounds, the cops might be checking this area soon, after last night."

Tim and Hollywood both gave their agreement in the form of nodding, and they all pushed off of the ground to stand up. Hollywood turned in a slow circle, once again taking count of their surroundings.

"I think we came from over there," he said, motioning to the horizon to his left. "So we should probably go that way."

Looking in the second direction he indicated, Tim shrugged. "Sure. I mean, all roads lead to Boston anyway or some shit."

With that assertion, they started trekking through the tall, uncut grass. The sun rose steadily against the powder blue backdrop of the sky, making the walk more and more uncomfortable. After about four hours of walking, Dana stopped suddenly. Hollywood, who had been watching the ground, ran into her back before stopping as well. Tim paused as well, noticing the intent look on Dana's face.

Just as Hollywood was about to ask why the fuck they'd stopped, a loud, shrill whistle rang through the air. All three heads turned in the direction it seemed to have come from.

"Is that a -," Tim started, being cut off by Dana.

"Train," she told him.

"Yeh, so?," Hollywood asked, obviously not impressed.

"So?," Dana mocked him, turning around to look at him. "What the hell kind of a law breaking bastard are you, if you don't know about train-hopping?"

"What?," Hollywood asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows. "No way, fuck you. We can't jump on a train, we'll get sucked underneath it and squished."

"No we won't," Dana began to explain. "All we have to do - "

"Like bugs," Hollywood added.

" - is find a station, wait until one of the trains stops - "

"Small, pathetic, bugs."

" - then we make sure it's headed in the right direction and find a car, and stow away. It's easy," she finished.

"Small, pathetic, dead bugs."

"You're such a pussy," Dana berated Hollywood, taking off in the direction that the whistle had sounded from. Tim watched her, then looked at Hollywood and shrugged before following.

"Did I forget to mention the squishing part?," Hollywood called after them. When he got no response, he gave a long-suffering sigh and started after them.

When he caught up with them about 30 minutes later, they were crouched behind a large stack of boxes. Joining them silently and still glowering, he peered out from behind their hiding place. Stretched out in front of them was a dusty train yard, littered with rusted peices of metal, spools of cables, abandoned or unworking cars, wooden planks placed haphazardly around for no apparent reason. Workers shuffled about, oblivious to the three intruders.

"All right, what now?," Hollywood asked, having enough caution to keep his voice quiet, although disgruntled.

Dana turned to look at him, smirking at the dejected sneer on his face. "Now we wait."

And wait they did. It was another three hours before a train came by, only this one was going in the wrong direction. Tim amused himself by lining up small gravel rocks to make drawings, ignoring the way Dana and Hollywood constantly bickered. It was almost endearing in a sense, but it was also amazing that no one overheard them or even came by. Unknowingly they had picked a perfect hiding place.

As the sun started to sink towards the horizon, they heard a far-off whistle of yet another approaching train. It pulled into the station, slowing, and all three of them sat up more alert. The train appeared to be a cargo deal, no passengers going on or coming off. A pair of workers came around the side and opened a large door on one of the cars, chattering among themselves.

"Where's this one headed?," the first asked the other.

"Franklin," the second replied.

Dana turned to Tim and Hollywood, raising her eyebrows pointedly. When she got two confused looks in return, she hissed "That's about a half hour from Boston." Tim looked enlightened and Hollywood glanced at the train warily.

"Come help me get those boxes, then," the first worker said, and the second nodded before they both headed back to the other side of the tracks.

Tim looked to one side and the other before starting out from behind the stack of boxes in front of them. Dana grasped his arm as he did, shaking her head. "We should wait until they finish loading."

"Won't the train start to move after they finish loading?," Hollywood asked. Dana only smirked at him as an answer.

A short while later the two workers returned, hauling a cart full of large wooden crates between them. They stopped outside the car, throwing them in haphazardly and talking to each other. Using their distraction to the best of her advantage, Dana snuck around the large boxes. She waited until they were nearly done loading before darting away from the concealment and behind the train car.

The workers finished with the crates and one of them forcefully slid the door shut, turning and following his cohort back around the train. Dana caught the door before it closed all the way and clicked shut, then pushed it back forcefully. She motioned to Tim and Hollywood silently before climbing onto the train herself.

"This is retarded," Hollywood grumbled. "We're gunna die. I'm serious, I saw this on a movie one time. This guy got onto the train, and then the chick that was with him just - "

"Hollywood!," Tim turned around to hiss at him. "The fucking train is not moving."

Tim shook his head, turning again keeping low as he crept to the train. Hollywood followed a few steps behind him, still not looking very pleased with the idea of trainhopping. Tim reached the train, and as quietly as possible attempted to crawl onto it. The car was taller than he'd imagined, and he had to struggle with pulling himself up. He only succeeded with Dana's help, finally tumbling onto the metal flooring of the car.

It was all Tim could do not to laugh when Hollywood faltered as he tried to climb onto the train as well, and Dana pointedly ignored him, refusing him help. He clung to the edge of the car, glaring up at her, and another whistle sounded. Panic took the place of the glare as the train slowly started to creep forward and Tim and Dana moved forward at the same time, each taking hold of one of the other man's wrists and pulling him onto the train forcefully.

Hollywood sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, glaring at Dana as she slid the door shut from the inside. "Crazy bitch."

Dana gave him an exasperated look before sliding back on the floor and leaning back against a stack of crates. "Fucking wuss."

"Did you see that?," Hollywood asked, turning to Tim. "She tried to kill me! I told you!"

Tim rolled his eyes in response and patted Hollywood's back. "There, there. You're okay now," he said in an uncaring monotone.

Hollywood grumbled something indecipherable and slid across the dusty floor to lean back against a stack of crates. Tim hadn't realized just how dark it was inside the car until the flame of Hollywood's lighter illuminated it. Once it was out again, the darkness seemed that much more thick.

"Hey, let me see that," Dana said, moving forward.

"Hmm?"

"The lighter," she explained.

Hollywood lit it again in order to find Dana, then handed it to her. Tim could hear her moving around and a few seconds later the inside of the train car was once again filled with light, showing Dana leaning over one of the many boxes in the car.

"Help me open this," she suggested after a second, and Hollywood and Tim promptly got up to assist her in prying th lid off of it.

"Why...are we doing this?," Hollywood asked after a few moments of unsuccessful tugging.

"Well, I haven't eaten in a while," Dana told him. "And if I'm guessing correctly, the 'perishable' stamps that I saw on the crates when they loaded them means that there's food in them."

"Clever," Tim noted. "I knew there was a reason we kept you around."

Dana flashed him a beaming grin, and with a few more tugs the nails holding the lid onto the box came free. They found that Dana had been right, that the boxes were full of various sorts of food. After opening a few more, they threw together a sort of meal and ate in the darkness inside the car. The sun was finally rising fully into the sky, but nothing more than a few rays peeked through the cracks next to the door.

After eating, Tim returned to his position leaning back against the wall. He didn't know how long he'd slept in the car, but he assumed it was quite a while since he no longer felt the slightest bit tired. Conversation had ceased between the three, cluing him into the fact that Dana and Hollywood had both gone to sleep. Despite the darkness, he closed his eyes and layed his head back, trying to relax. He didn't quite know how close to Franklin they were, but he was sure of one thing - this was going to be a very long ride.