Summary: 
a story of nobodies told by somebody.

[Everything in this text entry is completely fictional, including names, locations and incidents, and should not be taken seriously, I do not condone any type of illegal behaviour/activity, as this piece is written for entertainment purposes only, :^)]

 

Cold air swirls against my back as I lie flat on the coarse gravel earth. Positioned underneath an old demissioned cross-country freight carriage, I lie increasingly still as my eyes continue to scan the landscape before me, looking for any sign of life among the rows of sleeping metal giants, almost a stone throw away. Surrounded by overgrowth and the lingering smell of animal piss, I remain unmoved, eyes still fixated on the chrome shell of a Comeng train. 

Alongside me are 5 other pairs of eyes, each scanning the landscape simultaneously, back and forth, almost hypnotically. Pulling closer to me on my right hand side, P  begins to utter what I imagine is the plan of attack, his voice muffed under the increasing strong winds blowing between us. His fingers point towards the middle of the train, or more specifically, the underhaul where the wheels connect with the tracks, a place hidden well enough to avoid being spotted by perimeter security but open enough to continue surveying the area thoroughly. He finishes his gestures and begins to move, lunging forward in one motion, eeirely similar to predator catch