Statistics show that America is the safest country in the world. The number of attacks against women is 93 percent lower than the world average.
—American Gazette
The jeep bounced up and down against the gravel road. They drove along the coast and Andrew kept his eyes glued on the ocean. His wrist hurt where it was handcuffed to the roll bar at the top of the vehicle. It made it difficult for him to sit down. Carter didn’t have the option of trying to sit. His cuffed hands forced him to squat inches above the bench.
The open top created a wind tunnel, making conversation impossible. Andrew was left alone with his thoughts. He’d abandoned Mia. She was alone, trapped between two rocks. When his captors pointed their guns at him, he hadn’t had time to react. Saving her would be impossible. He hoped she’d made it out okay and told himself he had done the right thing by leaving her.
They started slowing down. Andrew looked ahead; there was a town coming up. Instead of taking the road straight, the jeep veered left, closer to the coast. They drove outside the tiny village and the road started descending. Soon they were driving along a sandy beach and the speed picked back up. Sand was flying into Andrew’s face. He tried to keep his head down and avoid the assault of the tiny flecks, but it wasn’t doing much good.
He felt something slide over his head. He fought, but part of him welcomed the shield. He opened his eyes again; now he was surrounded by darkness. Andrew tried his best to count and pay attention to the turns. If he knew the amount of time it was taking to travel then he could get back to the beach and back to Mia.
Mia. Her face kept creeping into his mind. Her eyes had been wide and brimming with tears, her chin shaking, and he had left her. Andrew told himself not to focus on that now. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Could she get out of there? It seemed like such a good hiding spot. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. How could he have let this happen? Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.
It was useless; Andrew couldn’t keep count. He couldn’t focus on anything. His lack of control was more aggravating than the situation he found himself in. They started to slow down again. Andrew hoped that meant the bag would come off, but no effort was made to release the hood. The deceleration continued and soon they came to a stop. The motor was turned off and Andrew’s ears rang. The front doors opened and someone unlocked his cuffs.
Andrew formed a fist and tried to punch whoever was assisting him but failed to make contact due to his blindness. His body lurched forward and Andrew was hanging over the car door.
“Whoa,” the man said. “This guy’s ready for action.”
Before Andrew could attack again his hands were pinned behind his back and recuffed. At the same moment the car door was opened and he fell to the ground. His assailants snickered. They left him there and went to Carter. If Andrew’s companion tried to put up a fight he made no noise in the process. Andrew tried to find the balance to stand up again, but before he could someone grabbed on to his elbow and hoisted him up.
He was being walked. Andrew was so unsure of his surroundings. He tried to listen for clues, but his hearing was still off from the wind. In the distance he swore he heard someone counting off. The walking stopped and Andrew was released.
“Welcome home,” his captor said.
The black hood was yanked off. Andrew blinked uncontrollably while his eyes readjusted to the light. They were on a ledge, looking over a huge training facility. Andrew’s eyes focused on the man counting off. There was a group of twenty or thirty men doing push-ups in sync with his numbers. Farther down there was an obstacle course and another group of men running as a unit around a large track.
Andrew’s heart jumped. This was what he imagined basic training to look like. This was what he’d spent his whole life looking forward to: being part of a team and belonging. Training and working for a cause. That dream had vanished, but part of it was etched too deep to erase.
“Are we in America?” Carter asked.
“Better,” their captor said. “You two are the newest recruits in the Mexico Militia.”