Chapter Seventy-One
Nathan
It wasn’t hard to remember the RV was not an armored vehicle. I was used to driving Hummers tuned for desert terrain or armored Jeeps made for sharp maneuvers. The RV moved like an ox and every change in direction made the kids cry out in surprise.
Their sniffles and giggles and babbling worries were a distraction but I tuned them out long enough to get a real sense of where we were. The wide rolling doors of the warehouse were on the opposite end. All I had to do was swing the RV wide and to the right and we’d have a straight shot at the doors.
“Hang on,” I called again.
The RV groaned as I hauled the steering wheel around. Kids tumbled from one side of the RV to the other and I felt the weight shift. I straightened out just before we lifted off two wheels.
“I got you, don’t worry, just hang in there.” Bree’s soft words flowed over the chaos.
I looked in the rearview mirror and saw her huddling the kids into a tight group, her arms wrapped around them tight.
“You okay back there?” I called.
“Just get us out of here,” Bree yelled.
A few of the kids cheered their agreement while others continued to cry and whimper. Bree soothed the tearful ones and encouraged the excited kids. She wanted them to think of it as a fun, wild ride instead of a desperate bid to escape.
As we barreled past the office area, I saw the little boy who had told on us. Trevor’s face was a white sheet of fear and regret. It tore my heart to drive past and leave him there, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t risk all the other children and Bree.
The poor kid had made his choice and was stuck with it. I gave him one more glance in the rearview mirror and saw the men around him raise their guns. The bodyguard who had strong-armed us the night before loomed up and one look was enough to make the men lower their weapons.
They wouldn’t risk firing on their fleet of drug-laden vehicles. Bullet-riddled cars didn’t make it across the border without being stopped.
“Nathan?” Bree called. “How are we going to open the warehouse doors?”
I caught her eye in the rearview mirror and pressed on the gas. Bree understood and gathered the children tighter behind her. She whispered for them to duck down and hang on.
I gauged the distance to the doors and counted down out loud.
“There’s going to be a big bang. Just think of it as a rocket ship blasting off,” Bree told the kids.
We were more like a wrecking ball. The warehouse doors were thin and exploded against the RV’s bumper. Corrugated metal crumpled back as we rammed through without much loss of force. My instincts forced me to duck but we were through the other side so fast I had to pop back up.
The warehouse yard was unknown. We’d been in the van with the blacked-out windows on our way in, and I had no clue what kind of terrain I was navigating.
One quick glance told me there was only a chain-link fence between us and the desert road.
“Just one more little bump and we’re free,” I lied.
I didn’t mention the two towers flanking the chain-link gates or the men posted there with semi-automatic rifles. It was a disgusting fact that the cocaine hidden in our RV was worth more to the cartel than the dozen lives within it, and I swerved to avoid the first peppering bullets.
Asphalt spit up onto the windshield as the men fired warning shots along the road in front of me. I answered by turning sharply and taking out one leg of the watchtower in a hard swipe.
I watched in the sideview mirror as the tower collapsed behind us. It blocked the other gunman with a cloud of dust and forced the men on foot to backtrack and find another way around.
“What about the gate?” Bree called.
“Fence, gate, what’s the difference, right?” I asked.
A few adrenaline-filled little boys cheered.
Their cheers turned to screams as a man leaped onto the side of the RV and reached through my open window. I had slowed down to make another turn, positioning us to ram the fence ahead. One of his hands groped for my throat while the other hung onto the door.
I raised a fist and smashed his fingers against the metal of the door. He cried out and readjusted before trying to reach my throat again. I saw the flash of a thin switchblade in his hand.
I slammed on the brakes and the man bounced off the hood of the RV as he fell to the ground. Once he was clear, I rammed the pedal all the way to the floor.
The RV’s tires spun on the dusty ground then gripped with a squeal of hot rubber. We careened across the warehouse grounds, scattering the guards trying to cut us off on foot.
The chain-link fence snapped off against the RV’s bumper and flew up and over us. A chorus of awed sounds came from the back. The kids watched the fence sail back to the ground and crash in a cloud of dust. Then they cheered.
I sped up and pointed us straight into the desert.
“Where are we going?” Bree asked. She struggled to the front of the RV and peered out the windshield. “There isn’t even a road over here.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I didn’t see a lot of off-road vehicles in the warehouse. Maybe an ATV or two, but we can outrun those.”
“So, we’re just going to drive into the desert and hope everything’s okay? Last time I checked, RVs weren’t really off-road vehicles either,” Bree said.
We hit a rise of gorse bushes, and the children popped up in the air. They landed with a loud mix of giggles and tears. Bree turned back to comfort the little ones who were scared.
“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked. “You looked just like popcorn jumping up into the air. Pop, pop!”
Her description caught the imagination of the tearful ones and soon it turned into a game. Whenever we hit a big bump, the kids would yell out ‘pop, pop!’ They threw themselves all over the RV and giggled.
I slowed down a little, afraid we might break an axle on the rough ground, and Bree had to find other ways to distract the kids.
She opened a cabinet and let the contents spill to the floor of the RV. “Who wants a snack?”
Bags of chips, boxes of granola bars, and all the regular snack food you would find in a vacation vehicle were snatched up by the kids. Bree tried to keep them from making a mess until another sharp bump made her spill.
“What am I saying? Go ahead and make a mess. Have a little fun,” Bree said.
The kids tore into the snacks and a crunchy peace fell over the RV.
I turned on the RV’s GPS and laughed out loud as it immediately told me to do a U-turn. “Sorry, buddy, but we’re not going back,” I told it.
Bree joined me in the front of the RV and stared out at the rough desert. “So, you don’t have any idea where we’re going?”
“I do now, but I wanted to make sure we led them on a detour first. It’ll take them a while to sort out which way we’ve gone,” I said.
“Won’t they expect us to head straight for the border?” Bree asked.
I shook my head. “We don’t appear that organized. They’re going to assume we’ll crash the RV somewhere out in the desert and be forced to wait for them to pick us up.”
Bree clung to the arms of her passenger seat. “And what happens if we do break down and get stuck in the desert?”
“The desert isn’t a problem. I’ve survived in worse terrain for a lot longer. I’ll keep you and the kids safe,” I said.
Bree nodded. She believed me but she was still worried. “The kids are the most important. We need to get them home.”
I reached across and squeezed her hand.
A chorus of grossed-out voices called, “Eeeewwww. They’re holding hands.”
Bree laughed and turned back to the kids. “Watch out or we’ll start kissing, too.”
It was good to hear everyone laughing. Even the littlest ones had stopped sniffling. They munched on cookies and chips and watched the desert fly by their windows.
Then we hit a huge bump, and I pulled the RV to a complete stop.
“Did we hit something?” Bree asked.
“A road.” I paused and looked all around for signs of the cartel.
“Hey, I know this place,” one little boy said. He clambered into the passenger side next to me. “See that weird box thing over there?”
“That’s a trough. There must be cattle out here somewhere,” I said.
The little boy nodded. “Cows are nice. A few even let me pet them.”
“Wait, is this where the cartel used to drop you off?” Bree asked.
The little boy nodded. “Me and Todd used this crossing. He doesn’t like the cows because they’re too big.”
I scanned the horizon again but didn’t see any telltale plumes of dust. The cartel had yet to catch up with us.
“Everybody out,” I said, opening the door.
The kids clambered out into the bright sunshine, followed by Bree. Her arms were overloaded with bottles of water she’d found inside. I waited while she gave one to each kid.
“All right, boys.” I pulled the little boy and his friend, Todd, to the front of the RV. “It’s your job to lead the way. Do you think you can do that?”
Todd whimpered. “Danny can lead.”
“All right, Danny. You think you can get all your friends across the field and into the United States?” I asked.
Danny puffed up his skinny chest. “I know the way in the dark, too.”
“Brave man,” Bree said. She ruffled Danny’s hair.
“Good,” I said. “Then it’s settled. You’ll all cross here.”
“What about you?” Bree asked.
I glanced back at the RV and then swept the horizon again. “I’m going to lead everyone else on a wild RV chase.”
The kids giggled but Bree was not amused. She didn’t say anything as she prepared the kids for the crossing, and I knew she felt the same as me. A tight pain spread in my chest at the thought of leaving her, but it was the right thing to do.