And then we’re trapped in the car and sink to the bottom of the river.”
Ethan chuckles in my ear and says, “We can ride on the barge, next to the car. We don’t have to be in it.” He squeezes me and whispers, “Anna, stop worrying about everything. We’ll hang out here for a few days, then head back home after Thomas is caught.”
I don’t say anything—just wish I could feel as confident about this plan as he does.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
You can only disappear successfully if you know who you need to disappear from.
New rule by Anna Boyd:
Disappearing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
place is beautiful. The barge ride scared me, but it was worth it to get to the other side. We’re on a meandering dirt road that weaves through a thick forest of trees where a thousand shades of green are on display. And there’s a ton of wildlife. Deer, squirrels, and rabbits stop eating and stare at the car as we drive by. There’s even a particularly nasty-looking snake stretched out across the road, I guess taking a nap or something, and it seems in no big hurry to slither out of our way.
As we drive, little pockets open up in the woods where a field or small pond hides.
Ethan and his dad are in heaven, based on the expressions on their faces. They’re looking at the deer with a different kind of appreciation than mine, which concerns me a bit. Maybe there’s a hog problem here to keep them busy and the sweet little deer alive.
“Won’t be long now.” Ethan’s grin is a mile wide.
Dad visibly relaxed once we disembarked from the barge. The forest thins out and some cabins come into sight up ahead.
“How many people own a piece of this camp?” Dad asks.
Mr. Landry had explained most of it when we first got in the car. He said this was a private hunting camp and the island was owned by the members.
“Twenty-two including us.”
Mr. Landry called the caretaker who looks after the place and arranged for him to deliver some food. He lives in the town we passed about thirty minutes ago. He also verified we’d be the only ones here since hunting season ended a few weeks back.
We pull into a campground area and there are about fifteen cabins all clustered together. A few are bigger and nicer than our house back in Natchitoches while others are nothing more than a house trailer with an attached porch.
Ethan points to a modest-looking camp, not big, but cute. The exterior walls are covered in old-looking bluish gray boards that are varied in width, making an unorganized but nice pattern. A porch stretches across the front, and black shutters frame the windows. Matching rockers stand guard by the door. “It’s that one.”
We can’t get out of the car fast enough. Ethan starts unloading bags and only struggles physically with mine.
“Why is your duffel so big?” Emma squeals. “He told me a small bag for a few days. Mom!”
I grab my bag and haul it inside before she can say anything else. The inside is what I think a camp would look like: an old black stove thing with a chimney and mismatched furniture that looks really worn in and cozy. A small staircase anchored against the back wall.
Teeny runs upstairs and back down again before I can figure out where to set my bag.
“There are bunk beds upstairs! I call top bunk!”
Mrs. Landry walks through the place then assigns rooms. “Anna, Elena, and Emma can have the room with bunk beds at the top of the stairs to the left. Richard, you can take the one on the right. We’ll stay in the room down here. Ethan you get the couch.”
Emma is not happy when she discovers there is no cell phone reception on this island. Mr. Landry must have known and mentioned this to Agent Williams before we left, since he was given a satellite phone to be used for an emergency. Other than that we are cut off.
It’s going to be a long couple of days.
Teeny must be thinking the same thing when she asks, “How long do you
Ethan chuckles in my ear and says, “We can ride on the barge, next to the car. We don’t have to be in it.” He squeezes me and whispers, “Anna, stop worrying about everything. We’ll hang out here for a few days, then head back home after Thomas is caught.”
I don’t say anything—just wish I could feel as confident about this plan as he does.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
You can only disappear successfully if you know who you need to disappear from.
New rule by Anna Boyd:
Disappearing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
place is beautiful. The barge ride scared me, but it was worth it to get to the other side. We’re on a meandering dirt road that weaves through a thick forest of trees where a thousand shades of green are on display. And there’s a ton of wildlife. Deer, squirrels, and rabbits stop eating and stare at the car as we drive by. There’s even a particularly nasty-looking snake stretched out across the road, I guess taking a nap or something, and it seems in no big hurry to slither out of our way.
As we drive, little pockets open up in the woods where a field or small pond hides.
Ethan and his dad are in heaven, based on the expressions on their faces. They’re looking at the deer with a different kind of appreciation than mine, which concerns me a bit. Maybe there’s a hog problem here to keep them busy and the sweet little deer alive.
“Won’t be long now.” Ethan’s grin is a mile wide.
Dad visibly relaxed once we disembarked from the barge. The forest thins out and some cabins come into sight up ahead.
“How many people own a piece of this camp?” Dad asks.
Mr. Landry had explained most of it when we first got in the car. He said this was a private hunting camp and the island was owned by the members.
“Twenty-two including us.”
Mr. Landry called the caretaker who looks after the place and arranged for him to deliver some food. He lives in the town we passed about thirty minutes ago. He also verified we’d be the only ones here since hunting season ended a few weeks back.
We pull into a campground area and there are about fifteen cabins all clustered together. A few are bigger and nicer than our house back in Natchitoches while others are nothing more than a house trailer with an attached porch.
Ethan points to a modest-looking camp, not big, but cute. The exterior walls are covered in old-looking bluish gray boards that are varied in width, making an unorganized but nice pattern. A porch stretches across the front, and black shutters frame the windows. Matching rockers stand guard by the door. “It’s that one.”
We can’t get out of the car fast enough. Ethan starts unloading bags and only struggles physically with mine.
“Why is your duffel so big?” Emma squeals. “He told me a small bag for a few days. Mom!”
I grab my bag and haul it inside before she can say anything else. The inside is what I think a camp would look like: an old black stove thing with a chimney and mismatched furniture that looks really worn in and cozy. A small staircase anchored against the back wall.
Teeny runs upstairs and back down again before I can figure out where to set my bag.
“There are bunk beds upstairs! I call top bunk!”
Mrs. Landry walks through the place then assigns rooms. “Anna, Elena, and Emma can have the room with bunk beds at the top of the stairs to the left. Richard, you can take the one on the right. We’ll stay in the room down here. Ethan you get the couch.”
Emma is not happy when she discovers there is no cell phone reception on this island. Mr. Landry must have known and mentioned this to Agent Williams before we left, since he was given a satellite phone to be used for an emergency. Other than that we are cut off.
It’s going to be a long couple of days.
Teeny must be thinking the same thing when she asks, “How long do you
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