Chapter 7

 *** 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 "wasband", was a rich and powerful man and, with connections to The Leader, had a huge social influence.  In fact, he'd had quite a following before the Leader had taken over the country, convincing men that independent women were the enemy and that they needed to take the country back and "real men" didn't take orders from women.   And "real men" didn't take "no" from a woman, either.  He was a monster, and a stain on the internet.  

I knew who he was; every woman and girl I knew despised his name and looked at his social media posts with a mixture of horror and disbelief.   He'd started out as Derek Wolfe, but as his popularity grew with men convinced that all their problems could be traced to a woman, he became known simply as The Alpha, and encouraged his cult following to be Alphas, not Betas.  And now that Leader was Elected he was appointed Lord, so went by the pompous and ridiculous title of Lord Alpha.  I'd hated him before I had met him, but after meeting him and experiencing his cruelty and disdain firsthand, I realized I hadn't ever really actually hated someone, not liked I hated him.  Of course he'd insisted I call him Alpha, and in turn, he refused to use my name.  I was simply, "Girl".  Well, that was one of his kinder names for me.  "Stupid b*tch" was a favorite of his, or variations of that.  

I knew he would be furious that I had dared to defy him and run away, and if I let myself think about what he would do to me in his rage if he did catch me, I'd have been too terrified to leave.   But I had left, and had outsmarted him.   Every time I felt the anxiety come on, I'd remind myself that I'd gotten this far.  "Not such a stupid bitch after all," would tell myself.   My other motivation of course is that my child, this innocent life I carried, would never be exposed to the Alpha's toxic behavior.  I would rather die before I let that happen.  

I wasn't stupid.  It was crazy to try to make a dangerous journey while pregnant, but I felt compelled to save the child I was carrying.  An abortion would have made more sense for a girl in my situation, even if it were available, but penalty for abortion was the death penalty, both for the woman those performing the procedure.  There were very few people desperate enough to risk such penalties, and even fewer providers that were willing to risk their lives.   

I might even die in the attempt to get out, but I would die before I went back.  Every day away from him felt like freedom and I realized how dead inside I'd felt while I had been trapped with him.  He took joy in putting me down and making me feel bad about myself, whether it was the way I looked, my weight, my hair, my cooking, or even my clothes.  He insisted on choosing my outfits, saying I knew nothing about fashion and had a horrible sense of style.  Everything was his choice; I had no identity any more.  

When I thought about what would happen if I had a baby girl and she grew up being treated like she was worthless, the rage at such a thing happening took my breath away.  My story doesn't start out so great, but I'm determined to change that story.   And the baby I'm carrying, if I have anything to do with it, the only thing they'll know about this part of the story is what they'll read in the history books .  

I thought of the slaves that had escaped plantations and had made their way to safety, despite the terror they must have felt and the very real dangers they faced.  I told myself if those people, with less resources than I had, could do it, then I could too.  I  thought about the Underground Railroad, the network of people who had been opposed to slavery and had risked their own safety to help slaves to freedom.  I wondered if there was anyone helping now.  I was pretty sure I was on my own.   

What I had to do now, was going to be alot harder than just finding a job and sleeping in a barn somewhere.  I'd have to find and cook my own food and I was the only thing I could depend on.   Failing wasn't an option.  If I didn't find food, I went hungry - no we went hungry.  I had someone else depending on me now.   

When I had left the farm, all was quiet.   The windows were all dark, and it was a new moon, so the sky was dark, and it was easy to slip into the shadows.  Even if someone had been looking out their window, it was too dark for them to notice me.   I cut through the familiar fields of the farmer's property, avoiding the road.  There was still a curfew at night and getting caught now would be disastrous.   I doubted anyone was patrolling the hiking trails that eventually led to the waterways that I would cross to enter Canada, but then again, the were notices and rewards for "missing" girls up all the time, runaways like me who had fled forced marriages, or were fleeing before they could happen.  

No doubt there would be rogue bounty hunters, willing to spend nights of discomfort in the hopes of a huge cash reward.   Luckily for me, these bounty hunters couldn't patrol private property without permission, unless they were in active pursuit, and the farmer had a huge farm, and 600 acres.   And at the northern edge of his property,  There was a National Forest, and in this part of the Forest, it was mostly Evergreens and as the old trees let in little new growth, the forest floor was relatively easy to navigate, even in the dark.  According to my map, there was a stream crossing through about a mile into the forest, and that's where I'd camp for the rest of the night.    I felt safer hiking in the dark, out of sight, but if I ran into anyone, it would be hard to explain why I was hiking at night.  Only someone running from something would hike at night.  So in order to blend in, I would have to hike during the day and camp at night. The nights were getting colder, and while day hikes were  still popular, the longer trails that required camping were not as busy as they were in the summer.  Which was perfect for me.   I'd only need to take the trails for 2 days to get the the wetlands, and then would be the arduous task of crossing the boundary waters. 

After several hours, I finally reached the dark forest.  I looked at the trees, wondering what hid in their darkness.  I took a deep breath.   "Please, give me sanctuary," I whispered to the ancient trees.   There was no answer, save for the slight rustling of branches from a breeze.   Then all was silent.  This was it; it was now or never.  I stepped into the shelter of the trees, and breathed a sigh of relief.  I had made it this far.    There was no going back.