All of the Führer's preparations for war left the country's resources terribly unbalanced. Ludwig was not surprised to discover that there were only two domestic trains running through Munich, and only one that left Germany altogether. It was a freight train en route through Austria. It was not built to carry passengers, but when Ludwig noticed a small family sneak into one of the compartments, he did the same.

When none of the conductors or train conductors were in sight, Ludwig sidled alongside one of the compartments and threw open the hatch. Without hesitating or making too much of a scene, he threw his suitcase into the compartment and pulled the sliding door closed. His eyes narrowed through the darkness. The compartment was filled with boxes—Ludwig knew better than to meddle with them. Instead, he chose a spot in the corner and sat down, with his back against the wall.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He hadn't stopped walking since he left the apartment. More than ever, Ludwig was glad to have a place to sit. His eyes flickered cautiously to the window of the compartment. It was high enough that no one on the ground could see in, but he still felt nervous.

When the compartment door slid open, Ludwig's face blanched and he shrank further into his corner. Thankfully, it was only a pair of teenagers that snuck into the compartment. The young girl turned to Ludwig and squeaked in surprise—the boy hurried to cover her mouth.

"Do you mind if we share your compartment, sir?" the boy whispered. Ludwig said nothing, but motioned for them to sit down. They chose the corner opposite of him.

The squeaky blonde girl eyed Ludwig with curious eyes. Ludwig wasn't sure how old she was, but she was small—she couldn't have been older than 12. She smiled weakly when their eyes met. The boy looked a few years older than she did—perhaps 16, or so. He wanted to talk with them, but he knew it would be foolish to start a conversation before the train started moving.

So they sat in silence for a few minutes, occasionally making eye contact. The engine roared and the train finally lurched forward and began its slow crawl across the tracks. Ludwig pulled his small copy The White Whale out of his suitcase, but it was so dark that he couldn't make out any of the words. He sighed gently and rested his head against the wall.

"Are you German?" asked the young girl.

Ludwig nodded.

"Vash thought you might be Austrian," she giggled. The boy, Vash, shot her an absolutely poisonous glare. He evidently didn't want him to know that. Ludwig frowned in thought.

"Are you Austrian, then?"

"No, we're not," replied the boy, indignantly. "We're only visiting someone there."

"We're from Bern, originally," the young girl piped in. "But we had business in Munich." The boy glared at her again before he shushed her. Ludwig began to wonder if he looked like a Nazi yet, considering the way this boy tried to be so secretive around him.

Ludwig smiled, "Ah. Switzerland, then. You must be city kids."

The girl giggled and nodded her head. They were surely siblings—the way they traveled together and conferred every answer with each other. Ludwig suddenly wondered why they were traveling on their own. They seemed so young to be sneaking on trains like they were.

"Where are your parents?" Ludwig said, worried. "Is it safe for you to be riding a train like this?"

"You're riding it, aren't you?" asked Vash. "Where are your parents?"

It was a fair point, all things considered. But Ludwig didn't care about himself as much as he cared about the well-being of these children. Aside from that, jumping on a train as a 20-year old stowaway was far different than jumping on as children. The girl suddenly piped up again, pointing to herself shyly.

"I'm Lili," she said. Then she motioned to Vash. "This is Vash, my brother."

"Ludwig."

"You're very… quiet, Ludwig. Unlike some other Germans we have met," Vash said. He hugged his knees close to his chest. "Where are you going?"

Ludwig scowled. He realized that he hadn't exactly made those plans yet. He had been so focused on getting out of the house that he never planned his escape route out of Germany. The kids must have mistaken his expression for something else. Lili waved a delicate hand in front of her.

"We aren't spies," she insisted.

"Oh, no," Ludwig began. His stomach churned at the thought of such a thing—kids serving as spies. "It's just that… I don't know where I'm going. Not yet."

"You don't want to stay in Germany, then."

"Not if I can help it."

"What about Austria? We can help you settle in," Lili suggested. "You can meet our uncle there!"

Ludwig chuckled. They were so kind—so innocent. The idea wasn't terrible, but it wasn't far enough away. He crossed his arms over his chest before he continued. He wasn't sure why he opened up so much to them: they were strangers, but he felt like he could tell them anything.

"I need to get far away from this war," Ludwig sighed.

Austria was too close. Switzerland wasn't far enough. He wondered where the train's final destination was, and if it was far enough away from Hitler's looming war. He looked up at the kids again, "Do you know where this train is going?"

Vash tilted his head as he thought, "Somewhere far South? Perhaps Lugano? All I know is that it passes through Salzburg."

Ludwig nodded. He would have to formulate a plan upon arriving in Switzerland. He nearly groaned aloud at the thought of such a long train ride, but when he reminded himself that this was his only option, he kept silent.

To pass the time, Ludwig played cards and word association games with Vash and Lili. He didn't realize how much Swiss slang he didn't know. He also found out that Vash spoke quite a bit of English, and they practiced that for a while before Lili began to feel left out. After that, they simply asked each other strangely personal questions that none of them hesitated to answer. Lili desperately wanted to know if he was married or if he had a girlfriend. Ludwig didn't have the courage to admit to them that he had little interest in women.

Finally, they were all drowsy enough to sleep.

Hours later, he snapped awake when he heard the compartment door slam open. The cool breeze rustled his hair and he reached for his hat. Vash and Lili were standing at the door. Ludwig was suddenly worried for the two of them—it didn't seem right for them to arrive in Salzburg in such a fashion.

"Sorry to wake you, Ludwig," said Lili, grinning. "This is our stop!"

"Will you be all right?" he asked.

"We're city kids, aren't we? We'll be fine," Vash insisted.

"Good luck to you, Ludwig," Lili called over the rushing wind. "I hope you find what you are looking for, wherever you go."

He nodded to them both, "Good luck to you both. Be careful."

They braced themselves and leapt from the train. Ludwig heard the soft thud of grass, but he hurried to peek out of the door, just to be certain they weren't hurt. He saw them rolling through the tall grass, giggling to each other, and he was immediately relieved. He didn't have younger siblings, but he thought that if he did, they would be like Vash and Lili.

The compartment was already lonely, and they had only been gone for a few minutes.

After a few lonesome minutes passed, he pulled out his book again, now that it was light enough to read.

From that point onward, it was a guessing game. Sometimes he would hear clues about his location from the train workers as they pulled into any given station. Thankfully, they never opened Ludwig's compartment. They must have passed through Austria and a good part of Switzerland. Ludwig guessed that Bern was the final destination. He planned on jumping out of the train after sleeping for a few more hours, but his plans changed when one of the workers threw the door open at the next stop.

Ludwig awoke with a violent lurch.

"Hey!" the worker shouted. "You aren't supposed to be here! Scram!"

It didn't sound like the worker wanted to start anything, but Ludwig scrambled up and out of the compartment as fast as he could. The worker seemed only irritated, but he did not want to test the man's patience. With his suitcase and jacket firmly in his hands, he leapt from the train cart. His big feet thudded against the ground—it felt like weeks had passed since he walked on pavement. He ran from the freight train without looking back.

Ludwig glanced around. He couldn't tell exactly where he was by looking at it, but he shortly realized that no one was speaking German. He craned his neck to listen in on a nearby conversation, but they were speaking too quickly. Ludwig swallowed hard and tried not to panic. He knew that Switzerland wasn't entirely filled with German speakers. Other than his native language, he only spoke limited French and English. His eyes darted frantically around the station. Without thinking, he grabbed the arm of the first person he could.

"Che cosa?" the man demanded.

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows: Italian.

"Excuse me," he began slowly, in choppy English, "What city is this?"

The man raised a thick, suspicious eyebrow. Then he shook his head adamantly—he did not understand the question. Ludwig sighed through his nose. This did not bode well for his time in this new place. He tried again in French, to little avail. Not knowing what else to do, he began to list the cities he supposed he could be in.

"Ach… Lugano? Bellinoza?" Ludwig guessed.

At last, the man understood.

"No, no," he said, laughing. "Milano."

Ludwig tried to hide his shock, "Milano? Ach… Italia?" He knew that the train must have traveled quite a distance, but he was not planning on escaping to Italy. The man clapped him on the shoulder.

"Benvenuti," he laughed as he departed. Sarcasm dripped from his voice—Ludwig could understand that, at least. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and mulled over his options in the middle of the busy train station.

He supposed his best option was to find a train that would return him to a predominantly German city. However, he had limited funds, and Italy seemed short on train transit, like his home country. His hopes sank. As much as he did not want to return home, it looked like the most practical decision. He regretted ever leaving Munich to begin with.

Just as he sat down on his suitcase to think it all over, a robust woman approached him. She bent over and tapped her thick fingers against his arm to grab his attention. It worked. Ludwig looked up abashedly.

"Are you looking for work?" she asked, in English.

He shrugged.

"Take that train," the woman said. She explained further, trying to pull more English together. "Eh... Is going to Genova, yes? Take that one. Milano is no good for you."

"I have little money, madam."

She waved her hand. "The men, they never check the ticket. Go now, before it leaves." Ludwig had already gotten up. He tipped his hat and thanked the woman. She arrived at just the right time—he wondered if she was a sign, from above. Genova was even further South than Milano, but he did not have much to lose.

"One more train," Ludwig muttered. "Just one more…"