text: Not wanting to risk hopping a train to God knows where, you decide to find a place to curl up and sleep for the night. Over behind the steel buildings across from the road, you find a patch of high weeds that will do nicely.
  
  You settle down and catch a few winks during the short breaks between the interruptions of the normal commotion of loading and unloading the freight cars and hitching and unhitching. It's exhausting to say the least, but you have faith that in the morning you'll be able to catch a ride and there'll be plenty of time to rest then.
  
  When the sky finally starts to gray in the East, you begin juning around. There are plenty of trains to choose from pointed in the direction you wish to go. It's just a matter of getting on board without being spotted and as luck would have it, there aren't too many people bustling about right now. Still, you have to be careful.
  
  You glide quickly over to the closest one and climb up the ladder on the front of a side dump car on the tail end of the train to look inside. Except for a bit of what looks like gravel here and there and dust, it's completely empty.
  
  You pitch your bag over and climb in. There's no way someone will be able to see you unless they climb up and look directly in. You make yourself cozy and settle in for the ride.
  
  The sun becomes unbearable around midday and you end up having to spread the blanket out to be able to even stand the radiating heat from the floor of the car. Every so often you have to stand up and let the blast furnace air flow over you to try to cool down as much as you can. You can only stand for a few minutes at most each time because the tracks run parallel to a highway and if you are spotted by a passing car, you'll no doubt be reported.
  
  You end up going through more of your water than you wanted and end up having to soak your T-shirt and wrap around your head to even begin to bear the heat.
  
  The sun finally drops down low enough that it casts a shadow in the front end of the car. Every hour brings with it more and more relief as the temperature seems to fall a degree or two until it has cooled down enough—or perhaps you are just that tired—that you find yourself getting sleepy. You stretch out and the rhythm of the tracks sends you tumbling head-first into dreamland.
  
  You wake up before dawn and find the train still once more. You make up your bedroll and repack your bag before peeking out to see if the coast is clear.
  
  The engine is gone and the short string of cars you are in seems to have been unhitched on a siding. The track stretches northeastward over the hill and there's a tall barricade of railroad ties where it stops abruptly at the west end.
  
  You could head back up the tracks, but that would mean backtracking and it's anyone's guess how far. Or you could head for the mountains at the far end of the valley. Surely you'll run into a road or more tracks before too long.
  > head for the mountains
  You set out through the barren waste, using the highest peak in sight at the far end of the valley for your bearing. Not having to watch your step to keep from tripping on ties makes it much easier going. You skirt large patches of low-lying bushes and piles of rock so you don't have to worry about snakes.
  
  The sun climbs slowly overhead and you start putting away the water. You still have nearly a gallon which should more than do to cross this valley. The mountains are right there, after all. You can almost reach out and touch them. Just in case, though, you pick up your pace. You don't want to be out here alone after dark.
  
  When it starts getting too hot, you wrap your T-shirt around your head like you did back on the train and imagine yourself as Lawrence of Arabia crossing the desert. You wonder if there might be an oasis out here. Wouldn't that be something!
  
  The sun continues to swing across the sky and more than makes it to the finish line of the peaks before you. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
  
  You look back from whence you came and can't tell how far you've come or even where the railroad cars might be. You haven't even left tracks as far as you can tell across the hard and scorched landscape. There's no going back.
  
  Night falls and with it the temperature. The coat isn't enough so you pull out the blanket and wrap it around you as well. You continue on until the peak fades into the night sky and you are no longer able to see it.
  
  You have no choice now but to stop here until morning. You can't even see the ground anymore so you could step right in the middle of a snake before you even knew it was there.
  
  Wrapping up tightly in the coat, you lean back against the bag. Night insects chirp and buzz even out here so you don't feel quite so alone as you thought. Somewhere in the far distance, you hear a lonesome yelping howl. It's so far away that you have nothing to fear from it. But, what about the things closer in? The things that might not even make a sound?
  
  Your eyes finally close on their own while you are straining to listen. You sleep through the night.
  > cast to the Winds
  You've been without water now since the day before yesterday. Or was it the day before that? You can no longer remember anymore.
  
  You can't go on. Your legs have lost all their strength so you allow yourself to crumble to the ground. You don't really have a choice in the matter.
  
  Looking out across the barren landscape, the mountains appear no closer than they did when you first set out. Everything has its own tint of blinding white and you can only make out what you think you are looking at by its vague shape.
  
  You pull Jane's card from your pocket and unfurl it in your hand. It's difficult to make out the lines on the page, but you don't really need to. They have been seared into your mind since that very first day when she presented it to you. You did your best. You only wish you'd have been able to complete your quest so that her dream would have been realized.
  
  A slight breeze snatches the page from your grasp. You are helpless to stop it. It flutters for a second where it gets caught on a dessicated plant before the wind works it free.
  
  For a moment, it blots out the sun just long enough that you can see her standing there—beckoning to you. Those spindly legs and knobby knees ending in flipflops beneath those faded and ragged cutoffs. The stained, white button up shirt tied at her waist. That toothy grin stretching wide across her face beneath that long and cascading raven hair. Those eyes the color of new grass.
  
  She reaches down and folds her fingers over yours.
  
  — The End