"Ron, you fucking bullshitting me?!" Trevor yells. I'm leant against the outside of the caravan. It's winter but in the desert, it's always hot so I'm wearing the recently bought knee length white dress I got at the clothing store near LS customs. It's damn good for this heat.
"No Trevor... Ortega attacked the meth lab, shot Chef and took all the loot." Ron says.
"Okay, that's it! Sam! We're gonna kill Ortega!" Trevor yells. Instead of going to him, I run to the shed and grab a wrecker bar and rope, speeding off on the quad with them across the handlebars.
The quad stops at the place the train track comes nearest to Ortega's caravan. I bring up overhead maps on my phone, looking at the land and track layout before putting the phone back in my pocket, taking the wrecker bar and jamming the curved end under a track line, tying the rope around it, the other end around the quad's rear axle.
I get on the quad as my phone buzzes. I get it out, looking at the screen.
'Want to go eat somewhere later? -Rys'
Rys... eating sounds good... 'Yeah, later.' I text back before putting the phone away and starting the quad.
I accelerate forward, the rope straining but after a few seconds, the track line section breaks off, the quad jolting forward. I reach back, cutting the rope with my knife before speeding back towards Sandy Shores.
I wait for a while at the crossing, my phone to my ear.
"Yeah... Sam, I've been meaning to ask... what happened to you?" Rys says on the other end of the call.
"I'll... talk about it later." I say. That subject is still... sensitive. Even though it was half a year ago, I haven't even spoken about it to Trevor.
"Well, I'll listen when you're ready." Rys says.
"Yeah... hey, I gotta go. See you later." I say, hanging up as the train exits the tunnel near the hippy camp.
I start the quad again, revving it up as the train gets nearer. I speed forward, launching off of the quad just as it passes over a flatbed cart, the bike landing in the dirt as I land on the train.
I stand up, hissing in pain as blood trickles down my legs from my knees. Blood running down my leg reminds me of... no, block that out!
I reach the engine, pulling open the cab door and knocking out the driver. I sit in the driver's seat after moving him, turning the throttle up to full as the train approached the missing line...
I aimed it perfectly.
The train shoots from the track, its fast spinning wheels moving it forward across the dirt. It hits Ortega's caravan, the carriages breaking away as the train and caravan both going into the river. The train landed in a deeper area, water suddenly flowing rapidly into the cab. God, I can't swim!
I kick furiously, managing to move up and take in a large breath before going under the water. It may be warm out there, but this water is freezing and I'm only in a simple dress! The train suddenly shifts, making me slam hard into the wall, a large cut in my side releasing a flow of red. My breath is running out and the door won't open, the windows are too small to get out of and I can't swim... I'm gonna drown in here!
Then I feel a pull.
Someone grabs my dress, pulling me out of the cab's front door. I gasp, inhaling and coughing as my head comes above the water. The man who saved me pulls me up onto the side of the cab which is still above the water, the whole train laid on its left side in the river.
"Kid? Are you okay?" The guy says... oh... it's Ortega.
"Yeah... fine." I say, standing up.
"Good. Then you can tell me why you slammed the fucking train into my home!" Ortega yells, pointing to the wrecked caravan a few meters upstream.
"Oh, you know... meth problems." I say before quickly pulling up one side of my dress, pulling the knife from its carrier on my leg.
"Don't tempt me, Ortega!" I say. He moves forward but I'm quick. I slide between his legs, slamming the knife through the back of his knee and making him yell out in pain.
"Yeah. Now, you ever attack my dad's stuff again, you'll have more than a fucked up knee!" I say before walking to the back of the train, jumping off onto the sand. The train was at an angle, the back end on the sand edge while the cab was deep in the water.
Slowly, with pain hitting me with every step, blood falling down my side, I walk home.
