Sam reluctantly agreed while Brogan and Bryan helped the remaining prisoners from both intake rooms into the cafeteria, shutting the door behind them. Alejandro exchanged shifts with the morning cook and had already made a hearty breakfast for them, but one they could tolerate after not eating for three days. He knew they needed their strength for the escape.
Sam periodically poked his head in the door to make sure everyone still stayed in place. Allison finally told him to mind his own business. She’d be responsible if “anyone managed to squeeze through the air ducts,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
As soon as he left the last time, she quietly locked the door after him and quickly urged the prisoners into the kitchen. BL members had just finished digging the hole through the floor of the walk-in refrigerator and now helped prisoners one-by-one down into the sewer. One of the members brought a ladder, making it much easier for the weakened prisoners to make the 10-foot drop into murky water. After the last prisoner entered the sewer, Brogan started down, leaving Bryan to tie up Allison and the cook.
“Before you go, Bryan, you must hit me, and hit me hard. Give me a good black eye to make it authentic.”
Although very reluctant, after some vigorous persuasion, Bryan made himself hit her hard enough to snap her head back against the wall. Her nose started bleeding and her eye started to swell. With a crooked grin, she looked up at him from the cafeteria floor, next to the cook who had also been tied up and gagged. Bryan had also been forced to punch him in the face to make everything look authentic. Both could tell how much it bothered him to hurt them.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, big boy,” Allison said with a grin. “Now go. Your partner has something she needs to tell you. And go with God. I don’t know how soon we’ll see each other, but you will both be in my prayers.”
He gently gagged her, and she laid down on the floor next to the cook after tying them both up. They pretended to be knocked out. They could hear the parade winding its way through the UT Health Center.
They were ahead of schedule.
As the last prisoner made it down the ladder into the sewer, Juan helped Bryan block the door of the large walk-in refrigerator from the inside with the heavy stove. Frank offered to help, but his broken ribs made lifting too painful and increased the chances of a punctured lung. Just in time. They heard shouts outside in the cafeteria as prison guards started pounding on the locked door. It wouldn’t take long before they found Allison and the kitchen cook tied up on the floor, seemingly unconscious.
Moving quickly, the three men scurried down the ladder. Brogan waited at the bottom of the ladder with Janice. With Bryan’s help, Juan secured the heavy iron sewer lid and they both turned and started sloshing through the muck toward freedom.
Dots of light broke inky darkness where BL members escorted prisoners toward safety. Each volunteer wore a head lamp to provide some light in the blackness. Forty-two of the original fifty prisoners escaped, but most were weak and dehydrated from their treatment by the major’s men. It was slow going getting them down the ladder and through the sewer. Two prisoners in the infirmary with Brogan’s mother had not recovered enough to make the escape. Because they were delirious from their fevers and in the infirmary, hopefully they could not help the warden identify the ones who planned the escape.
The smell and thick damp air of the sewer caused everyone to gag. BL members helping with the escape brought bandannas to tie around noses and mouths to diminish effects of the smell. The walls of the tunnel were slick and dark with moss. The three-feet deep sewer water made walking treacherous on the slimy brick floor, especially for weakened prisoners. Periodically, Brogan saw huge rats swimming around prisoners. She shuddered as she tried to ignore sights and smells threatening to overwhelm her already uneasy stomach.
Twenty BL members guided and helped prisoners. Each BL member memorized a map of the sewer and knew which branch to use for their designated prisoners. With each BL member assigned two prisoners, it didn’t take long before their numbers began to dwindle as they glided off into the darkness of various branches of the sewer tunnel.
As the four council members who made their way through the sewer with prisoners in their care knew, they had to go into hiding. Too many people knew them by sight now. If captured, it meant death.
Brogan and Bryan had already been on the run for a few days. But Juan and Janice both had family members to worry about in Austin City. Once they moved the prisoners to safety, Juan and Janice would head back home and move their families out of the metropolitan area.
Finally, only four council members, Frank, and their guides remained in the sewer. All prisoners had hopefully blended into the barrios and either returned to their families or continued protesting.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Brogan said as she hugged Janice and Juan. “Thanks so much for all your help; impossible to do without you. Who knows how long it will be before we will see each other again.”
Juan shook Frank and Bryan’s hands. His voice thick with emotion, he assured them he would continue the fight no matter where he and his family ended up.
Janice agreed. “I’m not sure if it’s safe, but after I move my family away from Austin City, I’m going to see if I can continue in my position as a UTA professor. Can we agree to keep in touch using BL symbols?”
The group agreed. Any vid-phone calls would incorporate BL hand signals or symbols in the background. Without another word, Juan and Janice left with their guides down a branch of the sewer to an exit, while Bryan, Brogan and Frank continued further through the sewers. They walked for at least a mile before they came to an exit near Riverwalk. An elderly couple led them to their tiny apartment where they showered and changed into clean clothes. They would hide in an old wine cellar until their hosts gave them the “all clear” signal. Their hosts, in the meantime, worked on cleaning their black jumpsuits.
As they huddled together, exhausted, in the cellar, Bryan suddenly remembered what Allison said about Brogan having something to tell him.
“What is it you wanted to tell me, honey?”
Although dark in the cellar, Brogan dimly saw her partner and father from light around the door. How appropriate the two people she loved most in the world were here with her as she shared what she hoped to be fantastic news.
“Allison thinks I might be pregnant.”
At first the silence seemed deafening, before both Frank and Bryan let out a holler, quickly stifling the sound to avoid being heard outside the cellar. She could barely see the silly grins on their faces. She laughed as she looked at them.
“Well, I guess that means you both think it is okay?”
Bryan, who sat beside her, gently put his arm around her.
“Are you okay? Shouldn’t you put your feet up or something?”
“I’m fine. You know the queasiness I’ve had and the passing out? Allison says it’s probably related to pregnancy. Without a pregnancy test kit, she did not know for sure, but apparently, I have all the signs. It’s not for certain. Bryan, but what do you think?”
“I couldn’t be happier, honey. I know we talked about waiting, but I am excited. I just hope all the stress isn’t too much for you,” Bryan responded with a worried look on his face.
“I’m thrilled,” Frank said, tears glistening in his eyes. “I just wish your mother was here. I know she would be, too.” He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Oh, I think she knows,” Brogan said softly. She told her father what her mother said just before she died. “She told me I would make a wonderful mother. And if it is a girl, I would like to name her Emily, if that’s okay with both of you.”
Unexpected contentment settled over the trio of fugitives as they sat in the dark, waiting for whatever came their way.
Chapter Seventeen
The Move
No law enforcement personnel or soldiers met them as they exited the sewer. Janice and Juan followed their guide to a nearby home where they showered and c
hanged into clothes they sent ahead. Janice put on her UTA jumpsuit, while Juan wore loose black tunic and slacks. Both wore sturdy black boots.
Deciding it better they not travel together, Janice hopped a train back to Austin City, exiting near Inner Space Cavern, a possible location for books she had not yet explored. She sent a coded electronic message to her family, urging them to be cautious. She did not use her T-chip and hadn’t since she arrived in San Antonio. It was encased in a tiny iron-lined pouch she always carried with her to prevent transmissions. Since she spent days and sometimes weeks underground, anyone trying to track her would think she was caving and the reason why her T-chip wouldn’t register.
Juan figured it was useless to cover his tracks. Although he’d left his T-chip in his dog’s collar in Austin City, there was the possibility someone recognized him in San Antonio because of his martial arts business. If so, he would be in trouble. Brogan and Bryan told him about the hobos’ underground method of rail travel, so he used it to travel back to Austin City.
When he walked in the door of the apartment where he and his family lived with his parents, his partner Lolita greeted him warmly with a kiss. His son, Mateo, was still in school. His father, Max, and mother, Guadalupe, were sitting down to lunch.
“Hello, son,” his father said, “How are you doing? Everything okay?”
Juan pulled up a chair to join them. He hadn’t eaten in a while and realized how hungry he was. As he ate, he told his family about the trip.
“It went well, Papa. Some of the prisoners died before we got them out, including Brogan’s mother, but Brogan’s father is safe, as are the rest.”
His mother crossed herself over her ample bosom, “Thanks be to God.”
He told his family everything about Book Liberators before he left, not wanting them to find out the hard way in case something happened to him. Now, in between bites of enchiladas, he brought them up to date on everything.
“We need to figure out what to do next. Too many people saw me and know I helped with the escape. I’m thinking we need to make a one-way trip to Mexico City or one of the rural areas to blend into the community. Papa, I’m going to need your help. It is time we started thinking about how to change this movement from a peaceful protest to a revolution. Too many people are dying needlessly across the empire. We must figure out how to protect our people.”
Max was quiet for a moment. He still carried himself as the marine he had been. Although not more than 5’8” tall, he was still muscular at 53 years of age and wore his hair in a buzz cut. He worked out at Juan’s karate studio every day to keep himself in shape. Although unemployed like many soldiers who served in the war, he volunteered for Juan at the studio, focusing on training young boys after school who would otherwise be on the streets getting into trouble.
“I’ve actually been thinking about it,” Max mused. “As we’ve discussed before, at the end of the war Prime Minister Altero discharged thousands of military personnel with no pensions and no jobs. Many became hobos, some became energy grunts, and some ended up in the prison system. We might be able to tap into them for a rebel army. We just need a plan and a way to train and equip them.”
Lolita, a slender woman with black hair falling in a cascade down her back, said nothing until now.
“It seems to me the first thing is to move this family to a safe place before you men start playing war games,” she said with a smile.
“I agree,” Guadalupe said firmly. Juan’s mother, short and stocky, wore her long graying hair in a braid swirled into a crown on her head. Although she spoke perfect English, she still had traces of a Spanish accent from Mexico City where she grew up. “My family in Mexico City will help us, or if we go further south into one of the mountainous areas, Prime Minister Altero’s soldiers will be less apt to bother us.”
“A great idea, Mamasita,” Juan said with a grin. “How soon can you be packed?”
The family began to plan for a move south. Juan started thinking about who might be interested in buying the karate studio. He didn’t want to advertise the sale, since it might alert law enforcement to their move sooner than he wanted.
Mateo came home from school later in the afternoon and got caught up in their enthusiasm after an initial disappointment at leaving his friends.
“Son just think about it. You’ll get to ride on a train to Mexico City, something you’ve been begging us to do since you turned six years old,” Juan teased his son.
Mateo didn’t need much persuading and joined eagerly into the packing. They agreed to limit packing to only necessities, selling most belongings and deciding to buy what they needed after they arrived at their destination. Juan sold the business for cash to one of his regular customers. Within a month, the family was on their way.
Max quietly contacted some of his former marine buddies who could form the beginnings of a rebel army. Next month a reunion of marines would be held in Laredo. Juan and his father spent many hours planning strategies to fight the increasing restrictions of the empire; strategies which would be the focus of the reunion.
Protests continued to break out across all provinces, especially after the prime minister appointed David Priest to Major Riley’s position as director of the Close the Book task force, elevating him to a general. Riots followed wherever the general went. Thousands of people were killed and imprisoned.
No longer a protest movement, the Book Liberators had turned into a revolution, even if the council did not intend for it to happen.
Juan and his family changed plans and decided to relocate to Laredo, far enough from larger metropolitan areas to avoid large contingences of the empire’s soldiers and, hopefully remote enough, to begin training militia. Max had been stationed at Ft. McIntosh outside of Laredo for a short time during the war. He believed it, or the abandoned Laredo International Airport, could be used as a base for the militia, with buildings for soldier barracks. Only a first-hand look would determine if the underground bunkers still contained ammunition. The main rail line to Mexico City bypassed Laredo so they hoped it would be out of sight of General Priest, at least for a while.
The few communication satellites were solely for vid-phone and vid-com communication, making it unlikely the empire could spy on their efforts from the sky.
Almost two years after their move to Laredo, Juan received a package from Marco via the rail system. Inside the box, he found his disguise for use when going about BL business. How appropriate, he laughed, as he pulled items from the box. He’d heard about the talented Sandra Bernhardt from Marco at the last council meeting, and now he saw firsthand she knew her stuff. Apparently, she was a master at disguises. He looked forward to the next council meeting using his new disguise.
Chapter Eighteen
Grandpa and The Journey
Little Emily giggled as she grasped her grandfather’s finger and looked up at him in obvious delight. Frank picked her up and rocked her gently in his arms, in awe of this little girl who had so captured his heart. He adored this fast-growing child as much as he loved Brogan. Little Em filled the hole in his heart left by his partner’s death.
A light breeze stirred the November air. Emily celebrated her first birthday on January 1st almost two years earlier. She had just awakened from her afternoon nap. She struggled out of pop-pop’s arms, as she called her grandfather, determined to get into mischief. He sat her down on the hardened dirt floor of the hut where he lived with her in the village of Cosala, northeast of Mazatlán. He sat on the hammock as he watched her.
She grinned up at him and started to run across the room to his cot, her emerald green eyes so reminiscent of his partner, her grandmother, it sometimes made his heart ache. Half way there, she tripped on a bump in the dirt floor and fell. Undaunted and giggling she got up on her knees and speed-crawled the rest of the way, her black curls bouncing as she crawled.
Frank laughed, picked her up, twirling her around the tiny room, a game they played each time she awakened from her nap. The
next step in the ritual would be reading to her from the carefully hidden stack of children’s books Stephen, her other grandfather, had somehow gotten his hands on.
Now, as Frank sat on the floor of the hut playing with his granddaughter, the journey from San Antonio with Brogan and Bryan replayed in his mind, like the jerky old black and white movies he remembered his grandfather showing him on an old-fashioned projector.
After almost twelve hours in the dark wine cellar, their hosts, an elderly Hispanic couple, fed them and sent them on the next leg of a long journey; a journey that would take them across the northern Rio Grande area, deep into rural Mexico. It was dark outside as they left the cellar, creeping through shadows down to the Riverwalk. Allison managed to get Herman to them, so he padded quietly along beside them.
Silently their guides motioned them on to one of the many mariachi boats gliding up and down the river, entertaining crowds into the early hours of the morning with traditional Mexican songs. They hid under some tarps while the band played near them. Herman sat beside them outside the tarp. After about 30 minutes, the boat pulled up to the shore and the tarp was thrown back.
A new group of guides motioned them forward. After several blocks, again walking in the shadows, they slipped on to an old fishing boat. Brogan overheard one of the fishermen say something about the San Antonio River. Herman enjoyed sniffing around the boat at intriguing smells.
If Frank remembered correctly the old map Brogan showed him, they were heading south east. He tried to talk to the fishermen, but they motioned for him to be quiet. They covered them with a tarp smelling of fish. Brogan was so tired, even the awful smell and resulting nausea did not keep her from falling into an exhausted sleep, nestled against Bryan’s chest. Frank fell asleep while Bryan tried to keep awake and watch over them. But eventually the gentle roll of the boat and exhaustion lulled him to sleep, too.
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