Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  “…I was about to ask if you wanted to join us and crossing the border,” I muttered.

  Jack’s eyes were lost in thought as he stared distantly at the ceiling. A small smile graced the sides of his mouth and he shook his head.

  “No, thank you, but I think it’s best that I stay here. Believe me, there is a big part of me that would love to join you and get out of this country…but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that to my family, not after everything they’ve gone through to protect me.”

  I was reminded of the reason that we started the revolution, reminded of the anger I felt in all those who were imprisoned wrongfully. All of those people who merely saw life in a different way, but were deemed dangerous for doing so. Jack had risked his life to save us, even suffering a beating just to protect our location. He hardly knew us, but he was still willing to help.

  Once again, I started to feel guilty and ashamed about abandoning the revolution, even though we had had no chance of winning against our enemy.

  “I can’t do much to change the world,” Jack started. “And sometimes, I feel like there’s not much I can do to change my life, either. But…I think that if I just focus on being a good person, helping others in need, not causing harm to anyone…then perhaps I’ll make the world a more forgiving place.”

  Mark placed a gentle hand on Jack shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, offering a small smile before returning to tending Jack’s wounds.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Jack was clearly feeling his wounds more the day after receiving the beating. He was moving around stiffly and asked us for help, despite wanting to keep us from working the previous day.

  We briefly discussed over lunch what we would do to leave the ranch discreetly, since they were people patrolling the area is for the fugitives that the Commission was looking for.

  Mark explained that we would leave sometime in the night, being sure to stick close to the ground and far away from neighboring houses so as not to draw any attention to Jack’s home.

  Jack asked us how we would get to the border. On Jack’s phone, Mark showed him the route that we were planning to take. According to the internet map, we still had two weeks of walking to get to Monterey. While I was not fond of the idea of being back out in the open, it was a small relief to know that it would just be Mark and I and it would be easier to move quickly and keep each other safe if we found ourselves in more trouble.

  When Jack brought us dinner the following night, he had a gleam in his eyes.

  “I have an idea,” he announced, setting down the bag he had used to bring food to us. “I think I can shave about a week of walking time off of your journey, maybe even more.”

  Mark and I looked at one another in surprise before turning back to Jack.

  “How?” I asked.

  “There is a livestock event close to the border,” Jack said, turning his phone to show us the website of a big livestock event occurring in a city I had never heard of.

  “My family doesn’t do like the livestock shows anymore,” he said. “However, my sister is big in barrel racing, and there is a rodeo not too far from there. If I load up the stock trailer with two horses, I can drive you almost to the border of the country, pretending I’m taking horses to my sister at the rodeo, and then going to the livestock show to see about buying some cows.”

  “That’s putting you in a lot of danger,” I said. “If it’s not something that you normally do, it could be seen as suspicious.”

  “It’s not that we’ve never been to livestock shows,” Jack told me. “It’s just that, ever since I took over operations, I haven’t had time. But I called a friend of mine, a neighbor actually, who agreed to come over and watch out for my family and the animals while I go to this livestock show and bring my sister some horses for competition.” He pocketed his phone, smiling. “That will at least get you to the border. You can leave whenever you feel most comfortable, but it will certainly shorten the amount of time that you have to walk out in the open. After the wounds you received, it might be best to avoid direct exposure for too long.”

  Mark motioned to see the phone, and Jack handed it over. My brain turned over everything the cowboy had said, liking the idea of being able to shave a week off of our travel time, but worried about putting Jack in needless danger.

  “I just…I just don’t want you to become a target,” I said.

  “That’s the thing,” he started, “I already am at target.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you need to put yourself in this kind of danger.”

  “What if I really do just want to see if I can get a good deal on some heifers?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. “And my sister really is competing down in that region. I can bring her horses, even if she doesn’t use them. Besides, it will also be a nice excuse for me to get out of the house for a little while. I haven’t left in a very long time.”

  I watched Mark look over all the information he could find on the website for the livestock show, and then also the map that we had looked at earlier that day. While I was ready to jump on the idea, I wanted to make sure Mark felt safe. I trusted Mark’s intuition above everything else.

  Mark looked up, handing the phone back to Jack before turning to me.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  He nodded, turning to Jack and nodding once more.

  “Great,” Jack said, a big smile breaking out over his face. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll bring the trailer into the breezeway and you can help me load it up. We’ll try to find a safe way for you guys to hide in the trailer without being seen. That way, if I get stopped at all, you should still be safe.”

  I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying not to get my hopes up that we were about to gain a large headway on Dana.

  I hardly slept that night, excited and nervous about the possibility of us being able to cross most of the open land in the stock trailer. By the way Mark was tossing and turning, it was apparent we were both not sleeping

  We helped Jack feed the horses the following morning, which allowed him to, once again, rest his battered body. He then grabbed an old, blue, beat-up pickup truck, hooked up to a big stock trailer, and drove it into the middle of the barn, which allowed us to close the doors so that we could prepare the trailer without worrying about the prying eyes of neighbors.

  Jack explained that he wanted to stack some bales of hay near the front of the trailer, and create a small box for us to crouch in, completely surrounded by the bales, which would allow us to be shielded from the site of anyone who could open the trailer to inspect what was inside.

  “I’ll also take one of our hot horses,” he added. “That way, if they ask to unload the horses, the horse will create a scene and they’ll want to get the inspection over with quicker so they won’t look as hard.”

  “Do they often inspect horse trailers?” I asked.

  “It’s rare, but considering all the activity that’s been going around lately, it might happen. It’s best to be prepared.”

  We helped Jack stack the heavy hay bales, though I ended up mostly just watching Mark and Jack move them, since they were far too heavy for me to move on my own. Once we had enough hay bales in the trailer, I acted as a guide, crouching in the area where we would be hidden and telling them when it was too small, or if I felt that the hay bales were going to collapse as soon as the trailer began moving. On the last few bales, Mark also climbed into the opening with me, allowing Jack to cover us to be sure that we felt comfortable enough for the drive.

  He then explained how the horses would be loaded, how long it would take to drive where we he wanted to go, and when we would leave the following day. We spent much of the afternoon planning and going over the things we would need, including any supplies Jack could get at the store that would help us on our journey across the border. He seemed fully invested in helping us, which I assumed was because he wished he could go on the journey, but felt as though he was obligated to stay and help his
family.

  He went to the store later in the day and bought us nonperishable food, larger canteens to fill with clean water, and a few more first aid things, just in case we ran into more trouble on the way.

  It was easier to sleep that night, only because we had not slept the previous night, but I was still filled with exciting thoughts about getting to the last safe house even sooner than expected. I knew that the border would not stop Dana if he truly wanted to pursue us, but I hope that Clark’s lie about me being dead had at least slow down Dana. And having Jack drive us as close to the border as he could would also give us more distance between the fated graveyard and the last safe house on the Coalition route.

  Jack reminded us to stay hidden that morning until he came to get us. He was going to remind his neighbor of the different types of food each horse would need, as well as show her where everything was that she would need to take care of the ranch for the few days that he would be gone. We heard them talking outside the door, and both Mark and I crouched behind the desk, just in case Jack opened the door to show her what was in the room—he never did.

  It was late in the morning when Jack knocked three times and then walked into the office.

  He looked as nervous as I felt.

  “Ready?”

  As we had practiced the previous day, Mark and I climbed over the top of the hay bale stack, carefully pushing two of them over our heads once we were crouched behind the wall of hay. Jack then heaved three more bales at the top of the stack, cutting out almost all light, but stabilizing the other blocks.

  I looked it Mark, taking a deep breath, try not to appear nervous. Mark also seemed a little hesitant about the change in the original plan. We both knew that getting close to the border quicker would be advantageous, but it also meant that we could be caught more easily, and that we could put Jack in danger.

  As we listened to Jack coaxing the horses into the trailer, the stock trailer rocking as each horse entered and was hitched into place, I reached over and took Mark’s hand. He squeezed my hand, offering a comforting smile that could barely be seen through the narrow gap in the bales.

  When the truck started up, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  It was risky, but everything we had done up until that point was risky.

  The trailer bumped up over the dirt of Jack’s property, and the horses moved to adjust their balance as the trailer rolled forward, which caused us to feel a little less stable. The bales of hay stayed in place, and once we were on the main road, both Mark and I relaxed a little against the front end of the stock trailer, settling in for the long drive.

  I wanted to sleep to make the time pass quicker, however it was impossible to do so. The trailer was hot, and the heat only enhance the smell of the hay and the horses with inside the trailer. I was uncomfortable in the cramped space, and itching from the loose straw and hay that had fallen on me with each pump of the road. Despite the discomfort, Mark and I managed to pass the time with relative ease. I was unsure if I slept through any of the journey, as it was both quiet and loud in the stock trailer which would have made it boring enough to fall asleep, but too loud to remain asleep.

  It was not until my legs began to cramp from being seated in such a tight spot that I realized we had been driving on the freeway for a very long time.

  “How long have we been driving?” I finally asked Mark, trying not to shift too much despite my aching.

  Mark glanced at the cheap watch Jack had bought for us the previous day, and then held up four fingers.

  We were only halfway there.

  When I was finally too uncomfortable to take it, I had to contend with turning sideways, and stretching my legs across Mark’s lap. He did not mind, and did the same once I had stretched out my cramping muscles.

  The second half of the journey was much harder than the first. As the hottest part of the day hit the stock trailer, we began drinking our water, trying to cool down. The wind that whipped through the trailer did not offer any relief from the heat, as we were mostly is that covered by the hay bales.

  Unfortunately, it was not until another two hours had passed that I realized drinking the water out of my canteen was a bad idea. I desperately needed to use the bathroom.

  I was relieved when the truck rambled off the main road and began the slow stop-start traffic before making a big turn and coming to a complete stop.

  Mark was nervous, but not overly so, as he did not put his hand on his gun. When Jack tapped the side of the stock trailer twice as he was walking by, we knew everything was all right, having established the signal the previous day.

  The back of the stock trailer opened, and I heard and felt one of the horses step out of the trailer. Then the next one was also unloaded.

  “I’m going to water the horses,” Jack said as he stepped into the trailer to get the second horse. “If you need to get out and stretch, this will be your last opportunity before we get where we need to go.”

  “What about the bathroom?” I asked hesitantly.

  Jack was silent for a few moments before he leaned closer to whisper.

  “After a few moments when the horses are out, climb out of the stock trailer and immediately walk to your right. Walk around the trailer and open one of the doors of the truck and close it again before going toward the bathroom. I see security cameras on the outside of the building. So make it look like you got out of the truck rather than the trailer. The trailer should block the view of you if you go around it.”

  I could see Mark’s worry plainly on his face, but I chose to ignore it, carefully getting into a standing position and pushing the bales to the side so I could get out.

  I walked out of the stock trailer, trying to move as slow as possible so as not to shake it. The two horses were standing near Jack, who was leaning against the open trailer door, providing another block for the cameras on the building.

  I walked on the far side of the trailer, coming up to the truck and opening the door, leaving it open for second before closing it and walking around the front of the truck, calling to Jack that I would be right back before hurrying toward the simple rest stop building behind the rundown gas station.

  I returned and climbed into the cab of the truck, closing the door behind me.

  Jack went to the driver side shortly after that and opened his door, staring at me and confusion.

  “Didn’t really think of how I was going to get you back in the trailer…” he admitted. “I’m going to pretend to talk to you for a moment, and then I’m going to leave the door open to go reload the horses. As I’m doing that, come out this door and sneak around the trailer to get back in.

  I nodded.

  Jack left the driver’s door open and I waited.

  I was not pleased to be climbing back into the hay once we had executed the plan, but Mark was relieved to see me and helped me move the bales back into place so we were properly covered.

  Jack reloaded the horses and we set off down the freeway once more.

  It was another three hours before Jack would pull off the freeway and drive over the city streets to the stockyard that he had rented a few stalls in for the night. The sun was finally beginning to descend and the heat was no longer unbearable. However, both Mark and I were very eager to get out of the hot stock trailer and away from the bales of itchy hay.

  Jack unload the horses, once again talking to us as he retrieved the second horse.

  “There’s a few people around here,” he told us. “We’re gonna have to wait until dark like we agreed.”

  “Can we stay in the trailer?” I asked. I just want to get out from behind the hay.

  “Just wait for a few more minutes. Let me see what’s going on.”

  The few minutes passed like hours, and I was getting impatient to stretch my legs again.

  However, Jack’s boots entered the trailer and his voice came to us, though it was quiet.

  “I’ll unload a couple bales of hay, which should allow you to get out a
nd move, but always stay below the windows of the stock trailer. You can stretch your legs, but I’m going to close the door of the trailer so no one accidentally sees you.

  I figured the arrangement was better than remaining crouched behind the hay.

  Jack removed some of the bales and I carefully climbed out, Mark behind me. We both crouched low enough to not be seen through the windows of the trailer, but I was still able to stretch my legs out entirely, sitting in the corner of the trailer and rubbing my cramped muscles. I was even able to stretch my arms high into the air, reveling in my muscles loosening as I did.

  Mark also stretched, sitting close to me but not too close as it was it once again becoming very hot in the stock trailer with the door closed.

  I both eagerly waited for nightfall and dreaded it at the same time. I was eager to get out of America, worried that every moment we spent in the country meant Dana was drawing even closer. However, I knew it would be very difficult to say goodbye to Jack. We had not known him for long, but he had sacrificed his time, money, and safety for us, and even though we had wanted to offer him a spot with us in Mexico, I had been moved by his devotion to his family and had grown so terribly fond of him.

  Saying goodbye would be very difficult.

  “Mark?” I whispered. He turned his head to me, his eyes half-closed as the heat of the trailer began to make him sleepy. “When we have the opportunity, we should send Jack some money, or something to thank him for everything he did for us.”

  Mark noted strongly in agreement.

  The last hour before the sun was completely behind the mountains was agonizing. The temperature began dropped a little bit, making it a little more bearable to sit in the stock trailer, but I was still sweating. I was eager to get moving again, but nervous as well. The anticipation of being so close to the most dangerous part of our trip was nerve-racking.

  Mark had told me that we would have to swim across the river to finally cross the border. I knew nothing of the river that we would have to cross, and I knew that the waters and bridges would be heavily patrolled looking for any fugitives trying to cross into Mexico. If Dana had learned Clark was lying about my death, which I was sure he had by that point, there was no doubt in my mind that he would have distributed a picture of my face to every officer along the border so that they could keep an eye out for me.