In a few ways, Lauren was actually kind of lucky. Few phobics ever received such a confirmation of what they had been dreading, a reassurance that their irrational fears were not, in fact, irrational. That was not the lucky part—that was actually rather horrible. The lucky thing was that when the bright rays of a burning sun washed over her half lidded eyes, they opened. As in, she was not dead. With a sharp intake of breath, she tried to pull herself up into a sitting position and ended up smacking her forehead on something cold and hard.

"Ow…ow…okay…"

She was still inside the train. But, on the positive side, it had stopped moving.

Letting herself fall back, and wincing as the back of her head hit the metal wall behind her, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on any personal damage the crash might have caused. Arms and legs seemed to be working, if incredibly sore. Her chest didn't feel like it had been ripped open, applying pressure to her sides didn't cause any significant pain…Something warm and wet was pasted over her face, and hopefully that had nothing to do with her splitting headache.

That was enough for her. Time to get out of this death trap.

Trying not to aggravate any injuries she might not yet be aware of, Lauren flipped herself over onto her stomach and started crawling towards the jagged hole in the end of the train. It was at that point, correctly positioned, that she realized she was upside down.

The train—the train was upside down.

Upside down and halfway crushed, like a stepped on aluminum can that she'd had the misfortune of being inside. And she'd thought it had been confining before…

It was too bad that there were no longer any screeches of tearing metal, because now she had to listen to the choked gurgling of other citizens, trying to breathe with their lungs punctured, or whatever else was wrong with them, like being trapped under benches or sliced in half. The sun still had a ways to go before it set; she could see drying blood and tissue, her hands squelching through some of it as she pulled herself forward.

Disgusting.

Good God, she was going to be sick. With the way things were going, it would be before she got out of the train, and not after, and she'd have to crawl through that too.

She shook her head and forced the nausea down, finally reaching the outside and staggering to her feet. The wind ruffled her matted hair, and she let out a small sigh. Saying that she was lucky wouldbe going too far, but all the same…

Even with her eyes gazing along the length of the train, she couldn't see why it had crashed. Honestly, she didn't care—she was alive, and that was all that counted…Unless they had hit some kind of creature that was large enough to derail a train and still alive. But she doubted there was anything like that around.

…They were still in America, right?

The tracks were set uphill, pulled up from their rivets and twisted into the air. Left or right, which way was to City 23? Would she be in trouble for this, if she went the wrong way? Could she pretend that this never happened if she checked in at the right office? And would they even notice she was gone? Lauren entertained the notion of pretending to be dead—running away from the towering Citadels that you could see no matter where you were in the city, the masked ghouls that pushed you along to hear you cry out, the tight train cars and crowded, run-down apartments, the idiot on the TV with the same damn message over and over and over again…

She entertained the premise of freedom on the dying grass and struggling trees, all the way across the track.

The thoughts were banished from her mind at the reverberating call that sliced through the air, the sight of some distant dropship coming towards the wreckage to reclaim any survivors.

Of course they would be all over this. They controlled everything.

Lauren didn't even know that she had let her hopes up until they came crashing back down on her shoulders. The conflict of interest was that she didn't want to go back. Underneath the bruising and cuts from the train she could feel deeper wounds from electrified stun sticks and steel toed boots. Maybe if this had come a few years earlier she would have had the strength to say she'd had enough and just run, instead of turning into—into—something. Names escaped her. It was something weak with locked legs stupidly standing there while it got run down.

A hand gripped her wrist and she screamed. She reflexively jerked back and stumbled off to the side.

"Why are you just standing around?!" It was the girl. She was looking in her face, desperation and maybe some determination lighting up two puffy red eyes. Maybe they had been that way before. Looking at her up close...

This girl couldn't have been older than fifteen. A teenager. A dying breed.

Her hands were bloody and gross, and she was smearing some of it on Lauren's wrists.

"They're coming, come on!" Dragging her towards that stretch of yellowing grass and thick trees. If she'd been feeling any less shocked from the how quickly circumstances were changing, she would have told her not to bother. Told her that hordes of Stalkers were made of people with similar ideas. Pulled her hand away. As it was, something about the girl's voice and her still throbbing headache imparted a delirious sense of urgency, aggravated by the sound of the dropship roaring overhead. Before she knew it, she was also running for her life.

"I don't suppose you have a plan, or, maybe a destination in mind?" she called out, trying not to get her feet tangled in the foliage as they passed the forest line. A loud roar sounded somewhere behind them, and she tripped anyway.

"Away from them." the girl replied impatiently, stopping to help Lauren to her feet. The daze was starting to wear off, and Lauren felt like arguing that it wasn't the greatest plan in the world, but she looked up and saw the desperation again, and all comments died in her throat. She just dimly nodded and pitched forward.

The roar of some creature echoed through the air as they ran, and she couldn't tell if it had come from what they were quickly leaving behind or where they were currently headed.

Oh yes.

Things were just splendid.