Domestic Enemies: The Reconquista by Matthew Bracken Read Free Book Online Page A

Probably, Daddy didn’t care about him very much any more, since he had moved away.  This fear stabbed deeply into Brian’s five-year-old heart.  Maybe Daddy will come and get me tomorrow morning…or maybe he will have other things to do again.
    From his bed, he could see out his window and up at a part of the sky above their neighbor’s roof. It wasn’t cloudy, so there would probably not be any thunderstorms tonight, thank goodness.  Thunderstorms at night were the worst, with the booming and crashing and lightning flashing. 
    Tonight there were stars out.  Daddy would get him in the morning, he hoped.
     

3
 
    Saturday June 21
    Ranya awoke before it was fully light, stiff from sleeping on the hard and uneven ground.  She unwrapped herself from the blanket, stood and stretched while surveying the desolate landscape.  She breakfasted on bottled water and saltine crackers from the pack, and then quickly brushed her newly cut hair and rolled up the blanket.  She had slept fully clothed and was ready in a few minutes. 
    She walked back to the cracked asphalt road and picked a hidden location, sitting Indian-style behind the desiccated carcass of a road-killed steer, where she could observe any cars coming in the distance from either direction.  The grim mound was disgusting, but there was not enough other natural cover near the road to screen her from view in broad daylight.  The dried animal was literally skin over bones, and long past being a source of interest to either insects or vultures.  The steer’s skull had become detached from the rest of the remains, and was picked clean and bleached white. Only when she was certain that an approaching vehicle was not a cop, would she stand and step out to hitch a westbound ride.  If the police had been alerted to her escape, she knew that a young female hitchhiking on a rural Texas two lane road would draw their immediate attention.
    It was eighteen hours since Starr Linssen had drawn her final breath of water and foam.  Ranya was guessing that by now the police in all of the states around Oklahoma would be searching for her, even if their hunt was not publicly announced on the radio.
    It was over twenty miles to the safe haven the truck driver had suggested. If she had not heard any news accounts of escaped prisoners on her mini radio, then the odds were that neither had any other ordinary civilians who were out driving today, and presumably, it would be safe for her to catch a ride.  Otherwise, it would be an all day hike across sage land and cattle country.  She unzipped her tan pants legs, took off her black sweatshirt, and stowed them in her pack.  
    A dark sedan appeared from the east, a possible police cruiser, so Ranya lowered her head, her huddled form blending in with the steer carcass. A black Mercedes flew past at better than 90 miles per hour, the driver unseen behind tinted windows. Other cars passed but she was afraid they might be police, so she stayed hidden.  Almost two hours later a camper came into view, a boxy RV with an extension over the cab. Ranya weighed her chances, and stepped to the edge of the blacktop, waving her arms enthusiastically.  The camper drove past with a small push of air, and then came to a stop several hundred yards beyond her.  The taillights blinked indecision as Ranya slung on her pack and ran after it.  
    The big camper had a faded green and white body like a bloated cocoon. A sleeping area extended out over what appeared to be the vestigial front of a full-sized van.  The camper was made even taller by the addition of antennas and cargo on top.  Metal and plastic Jerry cans and a pair of bicycles were strapped in racks along the back.
    The front side window was down when Ranya jogged up alongside the weathered RV.  The passenger was a plump black woman somewhere past sixty years old, wearing a gold velour tracksuit and a purple crocheted cap. The driver was a thin bald black man at least as old,