Wednesday, May 13th around 6:00am

The next morning I woke up with the sun. I set out for my old high school to get a shower, before too many people arrive there. I should be able to make it in and out without too much trouble, but I would prefer to not be seen by the school's security cameras. I can't really do much about that though. I set out at a brisk pace. The crisp morning air feels amazing on my face. Watching the sun rise in the sky as I walk, I think back to how I would have been sleeping peacefully in my bed a week ago. My boots crunch on the loose gravel on the sidewalk, as I make my way towards the school. I am only a block or so away now. I wonder what my classmates would think if they saw me now. Would they even recognize me, covered in dirt and filth?

I come around the corner. There it stands, my school. The best way to get in is through one of the less frequented side doors. Also, I will be closer to the gym showers if I go in through the side door. School doesn't start for another hour and a half, so I should have enough time. I push the door open, making sure to keep my head down. Walking down a few hallways, I finally make it to the girls' showers.

Quickly, I strip down. I do my best to scrub the filth off of my body. Shampooing and rinsing my hair takes the longest. Next, I scrub the dirt out from under my nails. Once I finish this process, I step out of the shower. I had brought my duffle with me, so I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt. Thankfully, my school has hairdryers that the students can use, so I mostly dry my hair, then I pull it up in a sleek, tight ponytail. I dig through my duffle, until I come across my make-up that I hurriedly threw in. I apply some eye-shadow, mascara, and foundation. Before I leave, I glance in the mirror. It surprises me how good I look, considering. I appear to be a normal teenager, nothing to make me stand out in a crowd. Nothing to give away what I have been through in the last few days, except maybe my weight. I don't think anyone else will notice that, though.

Suddenly, I get an idea. I should get a job. Something normal, like working in a grocery store. It would be the perfect place to spend my time, and the government would never think to look for me working at some cash-register, in my home town. It's perfect, I just need to convince them to hire me, a fifteen year old, with no work permit. I could offer to work for less than they would normally pay, and for longer hours. The less time I was on the streets, the safer I would be anyway.

I make it off of the school campus without any trouble. I decide to go through with my earlier idea and look for a job. I think the best place to start would be the Stop & Shop grocery store, that is located only a few miles from here. Walking at a brisk pace, it takes me about forty-five minutes to get to the grocery store.

I go in the front door and walk straight to the help desk on the left side of the store. I ask for the store manager. The woman, probably in her late fifties, glances at me questionably, but she answers my request and fetches the store's manager. When she comes to the desk, I introduce myself. "Hi, my name is Melanie Jackson and I am looking for a full time job, doing anything."

"Nice to meet you, Melanie. Why don't we take this conversation to my office", she says.

"Okay, sure." I follow her to her office. She is probably in her mid-thirties. She seems nice enough, I think. Her name is Jamie, I realize as I glance at her name badge. Jamie leads me to a tiny office in the back of the store. The room is completely bland. The only things in the office are a desk and two chairs across from the desk. On the desk, of course, is a computer. The only other thing in the room is a bookcase with some huge, college textbook looking books. She motions for me to sit. I obliged to the request. Best not to show aversion to leadership, especially before she has even considered hiring me.

"Alright, you must know we don't hire minors full time." she says bluntly.

"Yes, I do, but I think if you give me a chance to explain, you might reconsider your offer."

Jamie looks dubious, but she says nothing, so I continue, "I am not attending school currently because the government is, umm, looking for me. I need a place to hide out most of the time."

"Interesting, please continue."

"I will work for less than any of your other workers, and I promise you that I will do a better job than any of them. When I commit to something, I do it right."

"Hmm. What about documentation? And you say you will be diligent, but how can I trust that you will be?"

"Don't document me. And you can't let anyone know who I am, I need to stay under cover. If anyone, other than you of course, found out who I am I would need to leave. I can't risk getting caught again:"

"Again? What do you mean?"

"I escaped before."

"What about you family? Where are they?"

"I don't know."

"Wow. Okay, you can be a cashier and bagger. What hours can you do?"

"Any you want me for. I have nowhere to be."

"Alright, can you start tomorrow?"

"I can start today." She types something into her computer.

"Register three is currently unmanned from six am to five pm. This new curfew has certainly put a damper on our hours", she grumbles. "How close by do you live? How soon after curfew lifts in the morning can you be here?"

"I'm not sure. As soon as I can be. Maybe twenty minutes."

"Okay. Just be here as close to six as you can, but, obviously, don't leave before curfew lifts. I only live about five minutes away, so it doesn't take me long to get here in the mornings."

"Thank you for giving me a chance. So see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. Around six thirty would be great, Melanie." she says.

"Okay, See you then, Jamie," I respond. Before I leave the grocery store, I buy a box of the cheapest, highest protein cereal I can find and a large 24oz water bottle. I check out and leave the grocery store, making my towards the motel I stayed at briefly before my capture. I just hope he will still let me stay there, considering what happened last time. The walk from the grocery store to the motel doesn't take me very long at all. When I reach the motel the door is open, since this time it is still a few hours before the curfew. The door causes a little bell to ring when I open it. Hearing the bell, the man comes to the front ot the building. He looks just the same as the last time I saw him. They must not have known he assisted my attempted escape.

"Hi," I say

"You lived. I didn't think there was a chance in hell they were gonna let you just walk off."

"They didn't. I escaped."

"Ohh, well, the room you were staying in before is still open, if you want it."

"That would be great. I'm not sure I'll be staying here, I seem to always have to be moving."

"Thank you, sir," I tell him

"Name's Jim, by the way." I pick up my duffle that I had temporarily set down, swiftly leaving the main foyer. Best to stay out of sight, I think.

I swipe the keycard and go into my room. I look around, seeing the towel that I wrapped Tiger up in after his bath. It sends a wave of anger and sadness through me. What right do they think they have to take away all the we love and cherish. Will I ever see Tiger again? They rip apart the nation, creating a rift between those who chose to fight for freedom and those who just want to live their lives, not getting in trouble. Why, I wonder, must we only see how far our governing officials have strayed from our wishes, until after the unthinkable has happened? Why do we never see these things happening when they can still be easily-or at least easier than starting a revolution-changed. Now, we are, as a country, being kicked and beaten into obedience. The only thing they always forget that we have is hope. They can never extinguish our hope, because there will always be a spark ready to start the inferno in the people.

I'm going to get my shower tonight, I decide. That way I won't have to get up quite as early, not that the early dawn hours bother me anymore. The dawn reminds me that the world keeps spinning, no matter what happens in our lives. The dawns are beautiful as well, reminding me there is still beauty in our devastating world.

Before turning in for the night, I eat a few handfuls of dry cereal. Its not like I have a fridge to store milk in. I'm just lucky that I currently don't have to worry about the water situation, since I can just refill the water bottle that I bought.

I set my alarm for five-fifteen the next morning. I do not want to be late for my first day working, ever. I climb into the cheap hotel room bed, but I'm not complaining. At least I'm not in prison. I curl my legs up into my body and drift off into an uneasy sleep. I don't think I slept for a stretch more than an hour long. I kept waking up, screaming at the shadows lurking deep in my heart and mind, as thought yelling would actually do me any good.

The next morning, I woke up before my alarm even had a chance to go off.. Sleep has been hard to come and easy to go these past few days. I lay in the motel room bed, wondering what it will be like to work for the first time in my life. I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a short-sleeve t-shirt. I will need to find a place to wash my clothing eventually.

My stomach rumbles, thus reminding me that I haven't eaten breakfast. I grab a few more handfuls of cereal, waiting for the clock to hit six am. Those ten minutes seem to drag on forever.

Once it finally reaches six am, I slip on my boots and lace them up. I grab my key of of the old oak dresser and make my way out of my temporary home. I don't bother bringing my duffle bag. I don't see what the point would be anyway. I walk casually down the hallway, past all of the other unoccupied rooms. I leave the main entryway. I start off at a slow jog towards the grocery store. It is only about three miles away, no problem for me.

I make it there right at six-thirty. I find Jamie. She is sweeping the floor.

"Hi Jamie, It's Melanie," I say

"Ohh! Hi Melanie," Jamie continues, "I wasn't sure when you would get here. Would you mind grabbing that broom," she gestures to my left, "You can help clean up, since nobody will be here this early in the morning."

"Sure, no problem." I find the broom and start aggressively and thoroughly sweeping the store's floor. We continue this for a while, until it reaches seven am. At this point, Jamie decides to show me the proper way to run a check-out station. Once she has finisher instructing me, I feel confident in my newly-learned cashier skills.

A few other grocery store workers trickle in around seven-fifteen am. Not too soon after, customers start to come in, picking up groceries before work. I keep a friendly smile plastered on my face. I'm not sure why, but seeing all of the families going about their business as if it is normal. As if we have always had a curfew. These people never think for themselves though, they listen to our government. They believe everything they say without stopping for even a second to even contemplate the effect it will have on them. I really need to stop thinking about this at work; I'm sure they can see it on my face.

Throughout the day, I am the fastest at checking out the customers. It must be my determination to do an excellent job that keeps me from feeling the exhaustion. I just keep speeding through. I don't even realize it is closing time until Jamie comes over, telling me to go home.

I look at the clock and see that it is already five pm. I wave goodbye and leave the building, jogging home. Curfew comes down at six, so I can't fool around. I grab my key out of my pocket, just as I come to the hotel's main entrance. I am not really in a hurry, but I feel the need to run. Not away from my trouble permanently, but maybe just leave it behind me for a little while. I unlock the door to my room. I go inside.

Once in my room, I strip down out of my clothing and turn the shower water on as hot as the faucet will allow. I get into the scorching water, letting the physical pain distract me from the mental agony that I am going through. Eventually the water runs cold. I get out. I slip on some night shorts and a t-shirt. Before laying down on my bed for the night, I check to make sure the alarm is set and on.

They next day goes the same, up until about four-thirty pm. I have just finished ringing-up an elderly man with a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. I look at her face and I can immediately tell she some kind of depression. Not that that is uncommon these days, but it just feels different with her. Almost like she is fighting some kind of mental war--and losing. She is young, maybe early twenties but most likely late teens. She has a very young baby girl in her arms. The baby is probably less than two months old. The baby is crying, a sad wail of a cry. The mother is fumbling with her items, attempting to load them onto the belt.

I look at the woman, "Let me hold her. You look like you could use both hands."

She doesn't hesitate, "Here! Take her! I never even wanted her!" She hands me the child. I gently lift her up from under the baby's arms. I bring her close to my chest so that she feels safe. I play with the baby's hands until she starts laughing. Her beautiful blue eyes look up at me. The baby's mother loads her groceries up. Once she finishes, I hand the baby girl back to her mother.

As I am ringing up the groceries, the baby starts to cry again. Her tiny arms reaching for me. I ring the last item up and put it in the plastic grocery bag.

The mother looks at me, "I'm gonna get rid of her. She ruined my life."

I respond, "I doubt she ruined your life, she just changed it."

"You don't know that! He left me because of that!"

"Well he must not have cared about you very much if he left you."

"If I get rid of her, he will take me back. He told me."

"How are you going to give away your baby? Won't you miss her?"

"No," she says with tears running down her face.

"Who are you going to give her to?"

"Anyone who will take her and promise to never come looking for me again."

"There are terrible people out there. You can't possibly know who you are giving your child to."

"Are you a good person? Would you ever do anything to hurt her?

"No, never."

"You should take her. You seem like you would be a great mother. Look how she is reaching for you as we speak."

"You will miss her. You will regret not being able to see your child grow up."

"I might, but I know she will be a lot happier with you. If you would take her, of corse."

"I would love to take her, but I have no baby anything."

"I will give you her baby bag, and I will go get her car seat out of my car."

"What about food? Do you breastfeed her?"

"No. Just get her some formula. There is some in the baby bag, along with a few bottles."

"Are you sure you want to do this."

"Absolutely. Here." She hands me the baby and walks away with her bags to go get the baby's stuff.

"Wait!," I call, "What is her name?"

"Allison. It's Allison." The baby's mother (she never told me her name) brings the items up to me. I thank her once again, but she waves me of, saying i'm the one doing her the favor. If she knew my true situation, i don't know if she would say the same thing. She leaves the store with her bags but without her baby.

Just then, Jamie walks over. She is looking at something in her hands while she tells me that it is closing time. Allison lets out some sound that is a cross between a cry and a luaug. Jamie looks up. She notices the baby in my hands.

"Um, Why do you have a baby?," Jamie asks me.

"Her mother was going to give her to some stranger. Then she let me hold her and decided to give the baby to me."

"What are you going to do with a baby? You are literally running from the government every other day!"

"I don't know, but i couldn't let that crazy woman give her child to some crazy murder!"

"Okay. Calm down. Look, you can't just push the baby in a stroller. You'll need her to be attached to you, in case you need to run."

"How?"

"I'll get you a baby carrier, one of those sturdy front carrier ones. You won't want a sling, it will be hard to handle if you need to get away quickly."

"Okay. Thank you so much!" I say just as the baby starts to whimper. Oh no! What do I do? I've never babysat for an actual baby before! The youngest kid I ever watched was five (almost six, as he told me nearly one thousand times).

Jamie leaves me at the front of the store to finish locking up while she goes to get the baby carrier. As I lock up, I rock Allison back and forth, attempting to calm her down. I hope Jamie hurries back, since curfew will surely be coming down and we do not want to be stuck here or risk being caught out past curfew.

Jammie comes over to me a few minutes later, carrying a black baby carrier. I place Allison in the baby carseat while Jammie shows me how to use the carrier. She helps me put it on and adjust the straps so that it fits properly. Once we are sure that it is properly adjusted, she helps me fit Allison into it. The-my-baby appears to be happy to be near me again. I glance over at the clock placed front and center on the wall. It is six-fifty pm. Jammie looks over, just noticing the time as well.

"We need to go. You can't get caught being out past curfew. Especially not now that you have her." Jamie says as she gestures to Allison.

"Yeah. I know." I say. I really didn't think about how she would change everything when I agreed to take her from that woman.

I grab Allison's baby bag, looking inside to make sure she has enough food to last until tomorrow. It's not. At least she has enough diapers. I look at Jamie.

"Quickly! Get the formula you need for her!"

"Okay! Okay!" I grab the newborn formula, since Alison was only born three weeks ago. Her mother mentioned Allison was born April 17, 2015. She told me this as an afterthought, in case I wanted to give Allison a birthday party. I look at the clock. It is nearly seven. Ive got to run.

"Bye! Thanks Jamie!"

"Good luck Melanie!" I throw the baby bag over my shoulder and rush out. I have to get back to the motel. It would be really bad if I got caught. Plus, now I have to look out for Alison, not just myself. Her needs must now come first. Above all else.

On my way to the hotel-my temporary home-I stick to the shadows. I think this will be safer than running as fast as I can straight down the center of the street. I will have to be careful about the risks i take from now on. My life is not the only one on the line now. I have to think about Alison, but I will not stand down. I will not hide in the shadows, even if that means I will have to take some risks. My country, my people, mean too much to leave them all behind to save myself. That is not who I am. It never was.

I am a block away from the hotel when I hear them. The sirens. I run. I need to get my bag, but first I stop. I snap a picture of the flashing lights heading straight for me. In preparation for something like this, I unlocked my window and placed my bag directly under it. All I have to do is get to the bag and get away, before whoever is chasing me this time catches up. Alison, seeming to sense my anxiety, begins to fuss. I can only pray that she will stay quiet until we get away. But I have no way to know for sure that she will stay quiet. I guess that was just another risk I will have to deal with.

My feet are pounding down the sidewalk, and my heart is beating like a hammer. I hope they can't hear it. It feels like it is loud enough for them to hear. I do not have time to worry about this though. I need to get to that bag. i reach the back of the motel. i find my window and slide the window open. I reach in. My bag is exactly where I left it. Thank God.

Now I need to think. Where can I go that is safe? Stupid question, I chastise myself. There is nowhere safe anymore. I don't know how the other people of this country are reacting, but they can't possibly be taking this lying down. Not Americans, people who know what freedom is. But maybe they don't. What if they all believe the government is doing this for the people's good? That thought nearly makes tears come to my eyes. I don't understand how nobody saw this coming. They have been training us like dogs to obey. Now, it seems, they are euthanizing all of the misbehaving dogs. The ones who will not submit to ultimate domination. The ones like me. My parents. My sister. They all chose submission rather than fighting for their freedom. Our country. I truly hope everyone has not made the same deadly decision as them

I watch what is happening from the side of the building. It appears that the motel is being searched. I need to get out of here. Now.

It was stupid, emotional, for me to come back to my hometown. I should have never come here in the first place. I should have know that it would only get people hurt. This is a terrible time to be traveling though this place. There are soldiers patrolling every street, or so it seems. As I walk, cloaked by the shadows, I gently rub Alison's back up and down. I am trying my hardest to keep her calm. One sudden outburst from her will most likely get us caught, or worse.

Run. Run Run. My heart beats to the sound of my feet pounding on the pavement. It seems fitting that it is crumbling. I need to hide for the night. I need to feed Allison, but she will have to wait for the moment. It is impossible for me to stop now and not be noticed. Survival above comfort.

Except the second Allison starts to cry, I stop to feed her. I sling her baby bag off of my shoulder, digging through until I find the small cooler bag inside containing the pre-mixed formula. Her mother must have been planning on being out all day, since it is clearly a long-lasting ice-pack. I lean up against the rough brick wall, down the dark alleyway; while I feed Allison. It is my first (and certainly memorable) time bottle-feeding a child.

Allison is almost finished the bottle when I hear the heavy thumping of male feet. I have no time to think. By the time I realize what is about to happen, he has already crashed right into me and Allison. She starts wailing, not from being run into, but the fact that her bottle was taken away from her tiny, innocent hands. Our eyes meet, and I realize he is one of them. A soldier. Maybe he doesn't believe in what he is fighting for, maybe he is just following orders. Or maybe he really does believe in them, but either way, I doubt it would change the outcome. It is just one, I could probably outrun him. But when his body crashed into mine, the baby bag got thrown out of my grip. Its not exactly like I can leave it, either.

I reach down to get the bag, but my head starts to spin. I guess being sleep deprived and barely eating does not suit me well. By the time I regain my composure, the soldier is standing straight up, with his 48 caliber pistol pointed directly at my head. There goes my chance to run. I really need to get one of those for myself. If I keep being this completely helpless, It is going to get me killed. One of these times someone pulls a gun on me, they will actually use it.

"Put your hands in the air!" I do it. Now is not the time to show resistance. Not with Allison strapped on to me.

"Turn around and place your hands against the wall, woman." He must not realize who I am, in this dark alleyway, I realize. Although I assume this is the reason he has not yet pulled the trigger, I am not going to test my hypothesis by being defiant. That will get me killed, known criminal or not. I do as he says, once again. Submission is not in my character. I force my body to listen to my mind. I have to live for Allison, I remind myself with full conviction.

I feel the air move behind me and the soft thump of his rubber-soled shoes as he moves up behind me. He grabs my left wrist, pulling it behind my back. Then i feel something hard and cold rub up against my skin. He is putting handcuffs on me, I realize. He then repeats the same thing thing with my right arm, before tightening both cuffs so that they will rub my skin raw, but I remain quiet. Not a whimper escapes my chapped lips.

He begins to walk me back to his car (or van, I haven't seen it yet), he stops. He stops and turns back. He is back quickly, carrying my Allison's baby bag. Allison is starting to fuss, still having not gotten her bottle back. Seeing her upset, against my body makes me want to cry because my hands are cuffed behind my back. I have no ability to comfort my child. Thats when I realize that, yes, she really is my baby now. She only has me to protect her, and so far I seem to be doing a pretty bad job, since I have had her in my custody for less than a day and we are already in government custody.

Realizing that I haven't starter to run, he looks at me questioningly. It takes him a second to realize that the lump on my chest is a baby. That I had't started to run because I was protecting my child. That I would risk being taken into custody rather than be shot in the back in an attempted escape, as he would have liked. I hear him curse, right before he says something into his radio about, "bringing in another violator." They are probably starting to run out of cell space. I can't be the only person caught out past curfew.

He roughly shoves me forward, causing me to lose my footing and almost fall. I keep my pace brisk, keeping my shoulders back and my head raised high. Although they keep knocking me down, I refuse to remain on the ground. I have come to far to to give up now.

We are almost back at the van now. We are so close, that under the orangey glow of the street lamp, I can just make out the silhouette of another person in the passenger seat of the van. As we approach, the figure steps out. It is a man. I almost stop walking when I see his face, but I force my feet to keep moving. It is the man who gave me food when I was in the prison the first time. His food gave me the strength I needed to escape. To continue my efforts to get back the old America. I cannot give him away by doing something as stupid as to stop walking.

I can't tell if he recognizes my face, or if he would help me even if he could see my face. I think I get my answer when he says, "If you don't mind, sir, I'll handle this one. I need the experience dealing with type 5's."

"If you wish, soldier." He says

The older, meaner soldier shoves me with a lot of strength in the direction of the other. I am not able to regain my footing this time. Although I am expecting him to reach out and catch me, but when I realize he is not going catch me, I throw all my effort into landing on anything other than my baby girl. It turns out that "anything other than my baby" is my right arm, which feels like it is being run down a cheese shredder. I'm really wishing right now that I had not worn a short sleeve shirt and no jacket today. At the sudden impact, Allison starts crying her head off. As soon as I am on the ground, I struggle to my feet, which is not easy handcuffed with a baby attached to me. At least Allison does not appear to be injured by my ugly landing. I can't say the same thing about the whole right side of my body, which is now bruised and bleeding. But I refuse to show any pain or weakness in front of these terrible men. I try not to judge the young man, but it seems highly unlikely right now that he would ever be on my side. It seems, right now, like there is no one good left. I know as soon as I think, that it that it is false. I can hardly know all the terrible things that the good people of this country are going through right now. They could just be waiting for the right time. It seems impossible to find the right time. Maybe all of the good people are too busy attempting to keep their families safe. Maybe their children are more important than their country. Allison is.

Thats it, I think. They are making all of us chose between family and country, safety or freedom, and life or death. Because, they think all who chose family will hide and submit to their power-hungry political antics. But what they don't realize is that when you steal someone's family, they search for freedom. They look for a future, and if that means risking death right now, so be it.

The young soldier orders me to follow him. I do. Now is not the time to resist, especially since I don't know for sure that he wasn't just playing the part for his superior officer. I have no idea what kind of consequences he could face if he disobeyed his superior. As I have said many times before, it is not the same world that it used to be. Things are continually changing, in this world of mine. But I have to give people the benefit of the doubt. If I don't, I will be no better than the rest of them.

He commands me to remain still while he opens the back of the van. It is tearing my insides out, not having the ability to comfort my screaming baby.

"Listen." He tells me, "I don't know what you're doing, why you have a child, or what on earth possessed you to be out past curfew, but you are God damned lucky I am here."

I remain still.

"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here, but you are going to have to trust me. I'm going to find a remote place for you and your baby to quietly live out the rest of your lives."

"With all due respect, I will not do that. I will not surrender, hide, quit, or ever be knocked down hard enough to keep me from getting back onto my feet."

"I was afraid you would say that. I am terrified you will do something stupid and get yourself killed. You, truthfully, are just a child who has had no military training. You probably don't even know how to fire a gun, let alone win in hand-to-hand combat. You seem completely ready to surrender yourself to your self-proclaimed enemies, yet escape the second you get the chance. I don't understand you! You are going to get yourself killed!"

"You have no idea what I've gone through!" I yell over Allison's persistent cries.

"On that you are correct, but how do you, child, expect to start a revolution?"

"Right now. With you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You could train me. To fight, think, act like a real soldier, and that is what we need. Someone to lead a rebellion."

"You talk to confidently. You are eager to lead. Their plans never worked on you did they? You learned to do as they asked write what they wanted in school, but you never believed any of it did you? You knew from the beginning that they were trying to teach all of the other children that, no matter what, the government is right. You probably even tried to show other children your age these ideas, but they never believed you, did they?"

"How could you know so much about me?"

"I read you file. They made everyone read it, to show them all how much of a risk you are. How much of a risk you have always been to them. They government has been watching your entire family, but you always were the true risk, the only one who showed all of the warning signs."

"The warning signs of what?"

"Hurry up, Walker!," the older soldier yells

"Yes! Sir!" the young one calls back.

"We have to hurry. I don't have time to explain it right now, but remember they all fear you now. They all know how much of a risk to them you are."

"Okay."

"I am going to take your cuffs off, but I am going to have to take the baby carrier. It is the only way I will not be disciplined for taking them off."

"It's okay. I won't kill you. I trust you." The words almost surprise me as I say them, but then I realize that, yes, they are true.

He laughs, "You're funny. You actually believe you could harm a trained, armed soldier. I just don't want to be forced to cuff you again. That would make my plan a lot harder to execute. Now turn around." I turn around inside the van so that my back is facing him. I can hear him reaching into his pocket. He pulls out what I hope are the handcuff keys. I hear a click, when the key slides into the lock. He removes the cuffs from my wrists.

"Turn around and face me." I do. "Now," he continues, "take the baby out of the sling." I reach down and lift Allison up. She has not stopped crying this entire time. I shift her into my one arm while I unclasp the baby carrier from my body. Once I have it fully unhooked, I reluctantly hand it to Walker.

"So, will you train me or not?" I ask

"We can talk about that if I can get you out safely without getting us both killed, or worse captured."

"You mean all three of us, right?"

"Yes. Here." He hands me a full bottle for Allison. "We'll talk later. Just be patient." He says, just before he jumps out of the van. He then hesitates, as if remembering something.

"I'm sorry," he says simply before he slaps me. Hard. "He wouldn't have been happy if you were unharmed." This time he leaves the van for real, locking the doors tight from the outside.

I look down on Allison, who is sitting on my right hip, reaching for the bottle in my left hand. I have to be strong for her. I wonder what my parents would think, if they could see me right now. Would they be proud, or would they consider me irresponsible for taking in a child when I can't even take care of myself. I wonder where they are right now. Are they all sitting together in a jail cell, wishing I had gotten them out by now? Would they be angry with me if they knew that I had, instead of saving them, been running from the corrupted government. I hope they are being fed. I hope they don't try to be heroes and protect me, since I am the only one they really wanted anyway. And, where, is Tiger. Did they kill him? I won't let them take Allison. I would do anything to keep her safe, and that is what scares me. What if I do something stupid because I am trying to keep my baby safe?

I notice that the van has started to move. I move from my standing position to a sitting one. I sit on the van floor, bracing myself. I shift the now somewhat more calm Allison into a more comfortable position for feeding her. I get the bottle into her mouth. Allison immediately starts to suckle on the bottle. Watching this tiny, innocent baby eating brings a smile to my face, even in the midst of this crisis. Once Allison finishes her bottle, I slowly rock her back and forth until she drifts off to sleep.