Rogue State (Fractured State Series Book 2)

by Steven Konkoly

  “I’ll be fine,” said David. “What does that sign say?”

  Nathan examined the green-and-white road sign ahead. “Aeropuerto eleven kilometers,” he read aloud.

  “We’re getting close to the Route 150 connector.”

  “We don’t want to miss that,” said Nathan, settling into his seat to watch David.

  A few minutes later, barely able to keep his own eyes open, he watched David’s head lower slowly. They were definitely finding an out-of-the-way motel on the other side. He gripped the wheel with his right hand and nudged David with the other.

  The Marine bolted upright, shaking his head. “Shit. Sorry.”

  “That’s it. You can’t keep your eyes open for two minutes,” said Nathan, tapping his watch. “I don’t think a few hours of shut-eye is going to kill us.”

  David inhaled and exhaled deeply. “We’ll see if we can find a safe place to stop.”

  A lighted highway sign, spanning the two northbound lanes, appeared in the distance. The sign didn’t contain any highway numbers. The left side read RECINTO FISCAL NOGALES III-FRONTERA USA, the other AEROPUERTO-NOGALES CENTRO.

  Nathan said, “Stay left and follow anything that reads ‘Frontera USA.’”

  “How far to the border from the split?”

  Too tired to remember the calculation he had made earlier, Nathan had to take the map out again. Fortunately, he had scribbled the distance on the map. “About eight miles. Takes us west of Nogales proper,” said Nathan. “I still find it hard to believe the border crossing here isn’t manned. If it is, we’re screwed.”

  “I don’t think Jose would have sent us here if there was any doubt.”

  “They drove us into a very dangerous situation back in Sonoyta. What if the United States military’s shut down the Nogales crossing and left snipers behind there, too?” David sighed. “Knowing what we know now, I would have routed us south, away from Sonoyta.”

  Now it was Nathan’s turn to sigh. “It doesn’t matter at this point. Stay left. Looks like it splits ahead.”

  The SUV eased into a long, winding curve that took them onto an overpass. An artificial orange-scale glow lit the sky to the northeast, competing with the rapidly approaching sunrise.

  “That must be Nogales,” said Nathan.

  “I’m surprised it’s lit up. From the look of it, you’d think nothing was wrong here.”

  “I read that Mexicali was pretty quiet in El Chapo’s days. Before California started squeezing the flow of drugs coming through the border there. A peaceful place, if you can believe that. He kept the violence to a minimum in that city, so it didn’t attract attention from either side of the fence. Police officials from Tijuana kept their families there, commuting back and forth on the weekends. Maybe Nogales is the new Mexicali.”

  “I’m not stopping for a breakfast burrito, if that’s your angle,” said David.

  Nathan chuckled. It was good to hear David crack a joke. He’d been all business since their worlds had collided three days ago. Three days felt like an eternity, and their journey was far from over.

  “I’m not that hungry,” said Nathan. “Time to wake up the crew.”

  He reached back and shook Keira’s leg. She barely stirred. A second shaking didn’t improve the situation, so he pinched the inside of her thigh, just above her knee.

  “What the fuck!” she yelled, jerking upright.

  Owen mumbled and shifted in the seat, leaning against the backpacks instead of Keira’s shoulder.

  “I tried to wake you up using more conventional methods,” said Nathan.

  “What was next, light my pants on fire?” she said, shoving his hand away.

  “Sorry. We’re coming up on the border.”

  She rubbed her eyes and squinted, looking around. “The sun’s coming up,” she said, checking her watch. “How long was I out?”

  “Two hours?”

  She took a long sip from her CamelBak hose. “I could use about ten more.”

  “We’re going to stop on the other side and get some rest. Nobody is in any condition to drive at this point.”

  “Is that a good idea? Jose was pretty specific about getting as far north as possible,” she said.

  “Tucson is less than a hundred miles north, and there’s nowhere to stop in between. Alpha made it clear we need to skirt the city, which will slow us down. We need to be sharp if we’re taking side roads, and we need to find somewhere to gas up. We’re down to a hundred miles until empty. We rest, refuel, eat—hit the road running.”

  He purposely withheld the part about possibly waiting until nightfall, hoping David would forget he’d said it. He’d let them sleep as long as they needed, even if it meant burning up most of the day. Getting across the border was the important part. Even if the cartel had turned on Jose by this point, they’d be tucked away safe and sound. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Nobody would expect them to slow down or stop.

  Nathan was so deep in thought—or half-asleep—that he didn’t realize David had started talking. “—awake for the past hour,” he was saying. “I’d like to keep moving, but I agree with Nate that the risks outweigh the benefits. A quick nap is all I need to recharge. If they have a hot pot or a microwave, we can make some coffee. I have a Ziploc bag filled with Starbucks ready brew in my pack.”

  “You had me at Starbucks,” said Keira.

  The first indication they had reached the border came a few minutes later, when the two northbound lanes opened into three lanes separated by parallel running concrete barriers. A long sign suspended over the lanes had been hastily spray-painted white, obscuring the directions separating traffic.

  “Any guess which lane we should use?” said David.

  “I don’t think it matters anymore,” said Nathan, checking the map. “This isn’t the border.”

  “Kind of looks like the border,” said Keira.

  “I know, but we haven’t been on Route 150 long enough. Maybe this is some kind of tariff station? Who knows.”

  They entered the far left lane, which ran for a mile before they reached what looked like an inspection point. A tall pole and beam structure rose across the highway, covered by a wide corrugated metal roof. Underneath, the road widened to accommodate four lanes, none of which contained an inspector station. To their right, just beyond a chain-link fence, a similar structure sheltered narrow booths. From what Nathan could tell, the booths appeared unmanned.

  “Looks like we picked the express route,” said Nathan as the SUV shot through the middle opening.

  “I hope the border is this easy,” said Keira.

  “I suspect it will be,” said David. “This isn’t a border anymore.”

  “All that congressional bickering about losing jobs to Mexico and ending NAFTA, and the cartels open the border to free trade,” said Nathan.

  “Free trade in drugs,” said David. “I don’t see any eighteen-wheelers packed with produce heading north.”

  “We haven’t seen a single vehicle, period,” said Keira.

  “Mexico ships everything overseas now,” added Nathan.

  A second unlit station appeared in the distance, resembling what tollbooths used to look like on American highways. Nathan raised his rifle and took a closer look. Dented steel barriers protected each reinforced concrete booth. The faces of the booths looked like they had been used for target practice, the paint chipped and concrete cratered in hundreds of places. He saw neither gates blocking their passage nor people in the booths. As the image clarified, he saw the pattern of a faded, spray-painted symbol. Libre. Free.

  “What are we looking at here?” said David.

  “This must be the tariff station. Looks clear.”

  They crossed into the United States through a similarly bullet-riddled, graffiti-covered, and thoroughly abandoned tollbooth island. The only difference was the sign greeting them at the US Customs station. WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES had been spray-painted to read WELCOME TO MEXICO.

>   CHAPTER 33

  Keira peered between the front seats, examining the motel as they turned off Mariposa Boulevard. Nothing stood out as particularly worrisome at first glance. Like the rest of the town, it looked neglected by time. Well worn, but still functional on the outside. An empty shell. She didn’t like it.

  “I don’t know about this,” she said. “Maybe we should get back on the interstate and head north.”

  “David’s about to drive us off the road,” said Nathan.

  “Why don’t you drive?”

  “I’m not doing any better. We just need a few hours of sleep.”

  The SUV drifted across an empty parking lot bordering Mariposa Boulevard, headed toward a smaller lot on the other side of the building. The parking area looked to be concealed from the boulevard by a screen of bushes and small palm trees lining the road, but that privacy came with a price. There was only one way in or out of the lot.

  “I can drive,” she blurted. “I’ve been napping off and on since Sonoyta. We can find a hotel along the interstate, south of Tucson. It has to be better than this.”

  “If we could count on just cruising down the freeway, I’d be all over you driving. But if we run into trouble, I need to be behind the wheel. Counterambush driving is its own thing, and I’ve been through more training than you’d believe,” said David, easing the SUV into the small lot facing the motel office. “This actually doesn’t look that bad—and the town is quiet.”

  “Creepy is a better word,” she said.

  “We’ll gas up the car, have breakfast, and take a short nap. Back on the road in a few hours,” said David.

  “This is the last place anyone would look for us,” said Nathan.

  Her husband didn’t sound convinced by his own statement. She could read him well enough to decipher the subtleties of his inflection. Then again, the last forty-eight hours had demonstrated they weren’t safe anywhere. There was no reason for Nathan to sound convinced.

  David pulled into one of the parking spaces deep inside the lot, facing the two-story main building. To the SUV’s left, beyond a wide concrete sidewalk, a row of four tightly spaced motel room doors extended from the corner office to a breezeway that passed through the main structure. She glanced over her shoulder at the opposite side of the lot, seeing that it backed up against a row of tall palm trees. The backs of several businesses crowded the line of trees, separated by a narrow service road.

  Even if David could manage to squeeze the SUV between the palm trees, which she doubted, there was no way he could turn onto the strip of asphalt behind the business building. The only way out of this parking lot was back the way they came. Keira decided not to bring it up. Surely both David and Nathan had considered it.

  “We’ll refuel first, in case we need to leave unexpectedly, then figure out the room situation,” said David. “We should probably take a room on the second floor, where we can see the car.”

  Nathan turned in his seat. “How’s Owen doing?”

  “Asleep.”

  “Why don’t you get him moving while we refuel.”

  She opened her door to get some fresh air. As soon as they parked, the temperature inside the vehicle spiked, leaving stuffy, dust-caked air. She hadn’t minded the dust while cool air poured through the cabin during their all-night, open-window ride, but now it was intolerable. She couldn’t imagine what the motel room was going to feel like. Within a short span of time, the sun would be beating down on the rooms. Whatever the reasoning for stopping, Keira still wished like hell they had kept going. The thought of hiding inside a sweltering, stagnant room for a few hours was repugnant. She was losing it for no reason, she told herself.

  While David and Nathan topped off the vehicle, she woke Owen, preparing him for their transfer to one of the rooms. Nathan leaned inside her door while Owen stretched.

  “Hey, bud. We’re taking a short break here before we get back on the road.”

  “Mom told me,” said Owen, still looking half-asleep. “I’m pretty hungry.”

  “We’ll bring our packs into the room. You can eat whatever you want.”

  “How are we going to get into a room?” said Keira.

  Secretly, she hoped the rooms were locked. Without electricity, they probably wouldn’t be able to open any of the doors, even if they managed to find a master key in the office or on a custodian’s cart. They could try to kick one of the doors in, but she suspected they would move on instead.

  “David thinks they lock in the open position when the batteries in the key-card reader fail,” said Nathan. “It doesn’t look like this place has had any power in a long time. I’m going to check a few of these doors.”

  “Be careful.”

  He nodded before walking toward the row of doors facing the SUV.

  “I don’t like this place,” said Owen.

  “Neither do I, but we won’t be here long.”

  “How long?”

  “A few hours,” she said.

  Owen looked genuinely frightened by her answer. “I think we should get out of here. It doesn’t feel right.”

  Keira didn’t know how to respond without scaring him even more. Instead of lying, she went with a half-truth and nodded toward Nathan, who stood in front of an open motel room door with a smile and a thumbs-up. He walked to the next room and opened another door effortlessly.

  “Your father and David have gotten us this far,” she stated assertively. “We’ll be fine here.”

  She pulled him in for a hug, wishing that the motel room doors had been locked. Like Owen, she had a bad feeling about this place.

  CHAPTER 34

  Jose stared through the windshield at the yellow-orange strip of sky lifting above the horizon. The sun would be up in a few minutes, and he sincerely hoped that Fisher was in Arizona by now. His last report from Alpha indicated they were on schedule to reach the border before sunrise, but you could never tell what might happen in Mexico, or anywhere in the Wastelands, which was why he had opted to bring three armored vehicles west.

  They certainly hadn’t anticipated what happened in Sonoyta. Their intelligence sources had indicated only that the Sinaloa cartel had given up trying to send shipments through the town, not that they’d been encouraged to do so because Sonoyta had been converted into a helicopter gun range. He was even more surprised to discover American snipers hidden throughout the town. If Jose had known any of this, he would have routed Fisher south, toward the Sea of Cortez, and risked a broad daylight crossing. Sonoyta was supposed to be safe, if you didn’t turn north and approach the border. Now the entire town was off-limits, by order of the US military.

  What would his Mexican armed forces contacts think of that? Maybe they already knew and didn’t care. The Mexican government had long ago quit fighting the cartels. If the United States was finally taking a more proactive stance, Mexico only stood to benefit in the long run. Cartel influence and its associated violence had been a key talking point for US legislators keen on severing major trade ties with Mexico. His satellite phone buzzed moments after the sun peeked over the jagged hills ahead.

  “Perfect timing. I was just about to check on our friends,” said Jose.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” said Alpha.

  His heart sank.

  “What happened? How bad is it?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that. They crossed the border without incident, but—”

  Alpha paused.

  “But what?” said Jose.

  “They stopped at the Motel 6 on North Main Avenue,” said Alpha. “Two miles from the border.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I wish I were. We thought maybe they’d come under attack when they turned off Interstate 19, but their car continued at a normal pace. We tracked their transponder to the Motel 6.”

  “This can’t be real. Something is up. Are you sure they don’t know you’re following them?”

  “Not a chance. We stayed two miles back, running compl
etely dark at all times.”

  “What are they doing right now?” he said, making eye contact with the operative driving the car and shaking his head.

  “GPS maps them in the motel parking lot. We’re in the lot of an abandoned strip mall just to the northwest. I can see the back of the motel from here.”

  “What the hell are they doing? Why stop this close to the fucking border!”

  “Maybe they’re taking a break to refuel and eat. It’s a two-story, L-shaped building set back from the road. The inner parking lot is mostly concealed from the road. Not a bad choice for a quick stop.”

  “I’m concerned they might take a longer break. Quinn made it clear that he needed to be the driver, for tactical reasons. He’d be on the verge of driving off the road by this point. My guess is they’re stopping to rest,” said Jose.

  “I don’t like it,” said Alpha.

  “Neither do I. One of you should head over right now and get a better grasp of the situation.”

  “I’ll head over,” said Alpha. “What’s the play if this is more than a quick stop for them? We’re stretched a little thin here.”

  “I’m on Interstate 8, halfway between Gila Bend and Interstate 10. That’s two-plus hours from Nogales, so you’re it for now.”

  His original plan had been to cross paths on the outskirts of Tucson and offer them help avoiding cartel checkpoints and marauding banditos. He’d instructed Alpha to remove any detailed city and state maps from the glove boxes of both SUVs and provide them with vague instructions to skirt west of Tucson. Without a comprehensive area map or onboard GPS navigation system, their chances of successfully navigating the outskirts were nearly nonexistent without help—which Jose would be more than happy to provide.

  “I hope they’re just stuffing their faces,” said Alpha.

  “Me, too. We collapsed the tunnel after crossing back into California. The cartel won’t be happy about that, or the fact that we skipped out on our lease. I don’t know how far or fast word will spread, but assume the worst. Keeping Fisher alive is our highest priority.”

  “You really think he’s worth it?”