Timmy wakes up in the middle of the day. The hot sun is steaming the car, even in the shade. All four windows are down, but the heat is still bearing down on the pair. Timmy turns the car on and pulls out of the parking lot. They're low on gas and haven't eaten in two days. Timmy's stomach growls, desperate for some nourishment.
"Where we going, twerp?" Vicky asks, yawning as she wakes up.
"Gonna get some food, then we'll head out… figure out where to go from there."
Timmy pulls up to a fast food drive thru. He ignores the paranoia concerning security cameras for the time being, too hungry to care about being spotted. "What do you want, Vicky?"
"Just get me… burger." she mumbles before closing her eyes. Timmy pulls up to the speaker box.
"Welcome to Funny Patty's."
He pushes his head out the window. "Uh, I'll get, uh, a cheeseburger, a garden burger, two orders of fries. And two cups of water."
Timmy pulls up to the window. He fishes through his pockets for cash. Then he turns to the backseat. But the suitcase full of money isn't there.
"Vicky? You… you put the suitcase in the backseat… right?"
Vicky's eyes open wide. She turns around and looks in. Empty.
"Fuck!" she shouts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! God… shit!"
Vicky turns around and smashes her fist on the dashboard. Their luck just went from screwed to fucked.
"We… we lost our luggage and wallet. Sorry." Timmy says to the cashier. "Whatever." is the only response. "Can we at least get the waters?"
"Fine."
Timmy takes the cups. For now, this is the best they've got. Timmy pulls into the parking lot of the Funny Patty's.
"I- I know I packed our money!" Vicky yells.
"I saw. I know we had it in the back." Timmy confirms.
"When… fuck, I opened the windows in the night."
"I should have left the AC on."
"Then our car battery would be dead."
"Fuck. Fuck!"
Timmy shouts against the cold hands of fate. He punches the steering wheel. The horn beep doesn't do anything to dissipate his anger. Someone stole their money in the middle of the night. Some random asshole thug came and ruined their last chance at freedom. This was it.
"Twerp… you… your dad still lives around here, right?"
Timmy looks over to Vicky. Was she seriously suggesting they give up?
"Vicky, I'm not leaving you. I don't care what we have to do."
Vicky chokes back a laugh. She tries to hold back the tears, realizing that they've run out of options.
"We've got nothing left, Timmy."
"We've still got each other."
Vicky smiles even as her eyes water up. "We ain't gonna survive long being homeless, Timmy."
"I'm not losing you, Vicky."
Vicky takes a deep breath. This was harder than it seemed. She wants to keep running. Stay on the move, from state to state, country to country. But where would it end? The two of them starving in a homeless shelter? Building a home out of scrap wood and cardboard beneath a freeway? Timmy deserves better. He deserves the world, for he's given the world to her time and time again.
"Timmy… we can't run anymore."
Vicky reaches for his face. His perfect, handsome face. Blue eyes, tanned skin, and the slightest bit of moustache fuzz. "You… you really are too good for me, you know that?"
"Vicky?... I'm not leaving."
"It'll be fine." she says, rolling her eyes, trying to cut the tension in the air. "I mean, I'm a lady. They'll go easy on me. Three or four years I'll be out and we can hitch up for real. You can send me postcards."
"Vicky, I'm not… if something happens to you in jail, I'd never forgive myself."
"You saying I can't hold my own?"
"No. God no. You're the strongest, bravest person I know. But if someone ambushes you like that psycho cop did then… I don't know what I'd do."
"Timmy… I don't want you to throw your life away just to be with me."
Timmy cringes and smashes his fist on the dashboard.
"Vicky… you are my life."
"Timmy."
"I'm not arguing with you! Not about this."
"Timmy… I don't know when we'll get to eat again. When we'll have a shower… or be in a warm bed… Twerp, you have an out. So take it."
Timmy smashes his face on the steering wheel. He doesn't want to argue. Not at a time like this. Vicky growls, her stubbornness turning to anger.
"Timmy, neither of us can live like hobos! If I get this stupid bullet hole infected I'll be fucked! We'll starve, we could get stabbed or killed. We could get ringworm. I don't even know what that is but I don't want it!"
"I… I don't care."
"But I do!" she yells. She takes a deep breath before continuing, trying not to begin a shouting match with Timmy. "… when we had money it was different. We could buy decent fake identities and get all nice and set up somewhere else. But now we don't have shit… like I said, they should go easy on me."
"Maybe… they'll allow conjugal visits." Timmy replies. Vicky laughs faintly. They were fucked but she could still laugh. Timmy smirks. Vicky has always tried to hide her feelings behind a vicious smile or angry glare. And he's always been able to read her every expression. She wants to run too. She wants to keep running like desperados hopping from town to town. But this isn't the Wild West. There's no decent way for them to survive. All they can do now is figure out how they'll be separated.
"Well… let's go." Timmy says weakly.