2025

 On the way to the Beekeeper's house, James explained to me that the Park I'd gone to wasn't public land anymore.  I stared at him in horror as he told me that all the National and State parks had been sold off as private land - mainly to investors looking for oil and timber and coal.   However, some of the land had been bought by Native Americans, and that land was still protected.   He looked sick as he told me that Denali National Park was being drilled for oil, and with environmental laws gone, it was a now a wasteland.   The ancient Redwoods in California had all been chopped down for timber.  I wanted to vomit.   In Yellowstone, the bison, caribou, moose and grizzlies had been hunted by big game hunters to almost near extinction, and the trees were gone.  The Leader had shut down the EPA, and the pollution to the rivers was so bad that the fish population had been drastically depleted.   The bear population that...

*edited for clarity*  I figured the farmer would have some questions for me after that morning, but it wouldn't be until the chores had been done, so I had some time to try to think up a story.   Or at least I thought I did.  I was making my way to the worker's quarters for dinner, when the farmer invited me up to the house for dinner.   Nervously, I followed him.   How was I supposed to explain why I had taken off in the middle of the night?  I could hardly tell him the truth.  Even if I could trust him and his wife, it would put them at too much risk.   However, it turned out I didn't have to try and figure out a story.  When we got to the kitchen, and I sat down, he slid a piece of paper over to me.  When I saw what was on it, I paled.  His wife stared at me anxiously.    "I figured you wouldn't be running without a good reason," he said, simply.  "But then I saw this hanging up at the store and...

 I knew that keeping this baby was crazy.   I was homeless and on the run, and if I  didn't get across the border before this baby was born, it was highly likely we'd both die in the harsh, unforgiving wilderness.   I wasn't afraid to die, but I wanted my child to have a chance.   If I had been smart, I would have figured out a way to end the pregnancy as soon as I found out, because this isn't a life I'd wish on anyone.  But I couldn't.  Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted this baby. I felt a connection, already, to this tiny life inside me.  If it weren't for the child I was carrying, I would have given up a long time ago.  But with every tiny flutter in my belly, I was reminded of why I had to keep going.  I would do everything in my power to keep this child safe.   But even now, I never felt truly safe.   I hoped that would change once I had crossed the border.  At night, even though I was exhau...

As it turned out, I wasn't the only person who realized the woods was a good hiding place.  The place was practically crawling with Trackers, groups of so called Patriots that were self appointed border patrol, bounty hunters and law and enforcement.  They were armed, with AR-15's strapped to their backs, pistols in holsters and usually a few knives in the mix as well.  They usually dressed in an assortment of camo, and combat boots, and many of them wore body armor.    I ran into my first one early that morning. I had decided to scout the area, to see which was the safest way to travel.   Unfortunately, he also saw me first, so the option of turning around and disappearing was out.    "Halt!" the man said, importantly, as his chest puffed out.  He was shorter than I was, and other than a wiry mustache, he was clean-shaven, and had severe buzz cut.  His hair was a sandy brown, and his eyes were brown.  His appearance would not ...

 *** Note to my readers.   Sorry for the delay between chapters.  It's been a crazy month!  When I usually write, I go back and edit a ton of times, so this is  a bit more difficult and going back and changing things in the story would be confusing.   When I left, I didn't say goodbye or tell anyone I was leaving; I just left in the middle of the night.   It meant less questions and although I felt bad because this place had actually been pretty nice, I knew that the less the boss knew when asked, the easier it was for everyone.   I figured, eventually, with the clout my "husband" had, the police would be looking and my face was probably all over APB's and plus, with facial recognition and cameras in many places, they were probably following my trail.   I had no intention of letting them catch up to me.     My husband (or perhaps I should say " was band", was a rich and powerful man and, with connection...

 One thing I hadn't been prepared for after I escaped was the rage that had filled me.  I had learned pretty quickly in my short and miserable "marriage" that fighting back didn't help; it only made it worse.  So I had pushed everything way down and just existed, in order to survive.  So when I finally got away, all the anger and pain and fear that I had pretended didn't exist came flooding back.  Instead of letting it consume me, I focused that rage on getting out alive.  it made me more determined than ever to get out, and tell my story to the world.   The farm I was working at paid decently and the food was good, but I had been on the run for several months now and was in my second trimester.   I had a new problem; I was starting to show.   I wore baggy clothes and blamed my extra weight on the good cooking but I couldn't cover it up for much longer.  I liked this place, and my boss and his wife were nice.  They di...