but there.
“You hear that?” John asked.
The rumble echoed again. All three of them stood in silence, trying to decipher what was causing the noise. The hope on John’s face grew along with the booming outside.
“It's rain!” John said.
All three of them sprinted toward the door and burst outside into the fading light. Brooke looked up into the sky, searching the horizon for clouds, but was unable to find any.
Brooke looked west into the sinking sun and shielded her eyes as best she could. There, on the backdrop of a beautiful desert sunset, were black dots peppered against the sky.
“What is it, Mom?” Emily asked.
The objects grew larger along with the rumbling. A few minutes later, hundreds of fighter jets soared above them, littering the sky.
The boom of their engines vibrated her entire body. The station's windows rattled. The cruiser rocked gently from the supersonic speed of the jets above them. Brooke had never seen anything like it. It took five minutes for every jet to pass them. Even after the jets disappeared into the eastern sky, Brooke could still feel the thunder that lingered behind.
“Where are they going?” John asked.
They were just following orders. Called back to their country to protect its new borders. A part of her understood that, but the other part cursed the jetwash in the sky, which was the only thing they left behind.
Brooke knew federal authorities would be granted permission to cross the border, but not her. Her mind went back to her husband, Jason, who had served twelve years as an officer in the Marines. If he was still alive, they wouldn't be stuck in the middle of the desert picking through scraps to try and survive. They would already be in North Carolina with her sister, waiting for him to come back from base.
“They're going home,” Brooke said.
She just hoped that one day, they would get to do the same.
Chapter 3
A single sliver of light shone through the opening where Eric's meals were shoved. It was his one glimpse to the outside world. His clothes were piled in the corner. He had shed them the first day he was there. The only thing left on his body was his dog tags, which he refused to abandon.
Sweat rolled down the front of his chest, face, and legs. He knew it wouldn't be long before the sweat finally stopped. Then dehydration would start to take its toll.
The dryness in his mouth was already there, but he knew it would get worse. His blood pressure would drop, and he would become tired, dizzy, even delirious. His skin would dry, and his urine would sting until he couldn't pee any more. From there his organs would shut down, one by one, unable to function without the hydration needed to keep his body alive. All the while, the pain would increase with every hour he went without water.
Gunshots echoed beyond the door of his cell. They were sporadic at first but then accelerated to hurried succession. Boots thumped along the metal deck of the ship above him. Even through the layers of metal, he could still hear the screams of the men above.
The skirmish didn't last long. Eric waited to find out who was victorious. Depending on who had attacked the ship, it could get worse for him, but after thirty-six hours in the cell, he didn't think it could get that much worse.
The thump of boots smacked against the metal staircase that descended to his cell. The beats grew louder until a figure blocked the light shining through the meal slot. The clank of the metal lock that opened his door would bring either relief or more pain. The door opened. Eric's eyes struggled to adjust to the flood of light entering the room.
“You look like shit, Lieutenant,” Captain Howard said.
“I'll make sure I read the fine print next time I sign up for a free spa day,” Eric answered.
Two other sailors entered from behind the captain and picked Eric up. The light exposed the cuts and bruises along
“You hear that?” John asked.
The rumble echoed again. All three of them stood in silence, trying to decipher what was causing the noise. The hope on John’s face grew along with the booming outside.
“It's rain!” John said.
All three of them sprinted toward the door and burst outside into the fading light. Brooke looked up into the sky, searching the horizon for clouds, but was unable to find any.
Brooke looked west into the sinking sun and shielded her eyes as best she could. There, on the backdrop of a beautiful desert sunset, were black dots peppered against the sky.
“What is it, Mom?” Emily asked.
The objects grew larger along with the rumbling. A few minutes later, hundreds of fighter jets soared above them, littering the sky.
The boom of their engines vibrated her entire body. The station's windows rattled. The cruiser rocked gently from the supersonic speed of the jets above them. Brooke had never seen anything like it. It took five minutes for every jet to pass them. Even after the jets disappeared into the eastern sky, Brooke could still feel the thunder that lingered behind.
“Where are they going?” John asked.
They were just following orders. Called back to their country to protect its new borders. A part of her understood that, but the other part cursed the jetwash in the sky, which was the only thing they left behind.
Brooke knew federal authorities would be granted permission to cross the border, but not her. Her mind went back to her husband, Jason, who had served twelve years as an officer in the Marines. If he was still alive, they wouldn't be stuck in the middle of the desert picking through scraps to try and survive. They would already be in North Carolina with her sister, waiting for him to come back from base.
“They're going home,” Brooke said.
She just hoped that one day, they would get to do the same.
Chapter 3
A single sliver of light shone through the opening where Eric's meals were shoved. It was his one glimpse to the outside world. His clothes were piled in the corner. He had shed them the first day he was there. The only thing left on his body was his dog tags, which he refused to abandon.
Sweat rolled down the front of his chest, face, and legs. He knew it wouldn't be long before the sweat finally stopped. Then dehydration would start to take its toll.
The dryness in his mouth was already there, but he knew it would get worse. His blood pressure would drop, and he would become tired, dizzy, even delirious. His skin would dry, and his urine would sting until he couldn't pee any more. From there his organs would shut down, one by one, unable to function without the hydration needed to keep his body alive. All the while, the pain would increase with every hour he went without water.
Gunshots echoed beyond the door of his cell. They were sporadic at first but then accelerated to hurried succession. Boots thumped along the metal deck of the ship above him. Even through the layers of metal, he could still hear the screams of the men above.
The skirmish didn't last long. Eric waited to find out who was victorious. Depending on who had attacked the ship, it could get worse for him, but after thirty-six hours in the cell, he didn't think it could get that much worse.
The thump of boots smacked against the metal staircase that descended to his cell. The beats grew louder until a figure blocked the light shining through the meal slot. The clank of the metal lock that opened his door would bring either relief or more pain. The door opened. Eric's eyes struggled to adjust to the flood of light entering the room.
“You look like shit, Lieutenant,” Captain Howard said.
“I'll make sure I read the fine print next time I sign up for a free spa day,” Eric answered.
Two other sailors entered from behind the captain and picked Eric up. The light exposed the cuts and bruises along
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