Without Borders by Amanda Heger Read Free Book Online

lot in the way of uncertainty and burn-out—one of the many things he wanted to change.
    “Uh, oh,” Phillip said.
    This got him to open an eye. A few dark spots dotted Phillip’s shoulders. A single drop hit Felipe’s face. Another his arm. The giant drops of a midday flash storm. Short, but bone-soaking.
    He pulled two thin, clear plastic ponchos from one of the many bags between them. “Here.” He tossed one to Phillip as the truck continued on, bumping and jerking across the uneven road.
    “I’ve got it.” The American tossed it back and dug in his own backpack.
    Felipe shrugged and pulled his head through the hole of his poncho as the drops grew heavier. When he looked up again, Phillip was covered from head to toe in thick, fluorescent yellow plastic. He’d even tugged on a pair of matching knee-high boots, transforming himself into a waterproof, human plantain.
    • • •
    Annie’s eyes popped open, shocked into consciousness by the echoes of a slamming door. She sat alone in the unmoving truck, the glorious air conditioning long gone. Outside, rain came down, turning the world hazy and unfinished. She ran a hand along one cheek, checking for the telltale signs of drool, when a flash of yellow appeared at the driver’s side. She crawled across the sticky bench seat, narrowly avoiding the gear shift, and cracked the window.
    “We’re stuck.” Phillip’s voice was nearly smothered by the pounding rain. He pushed a folded rectangle of plastic through the window. “You have to get out.”
    “What? Why?” Annie stared at the plastic—a clear poncho, the kind you bought at the dollar store. The ones that barely kept you dry in a light drizzle.
    “Less weight. Juan’s going to drive, and Felipe and I will push us out.”
    Annie turned the handle until the window closed, then pulled the rumpled plastic over her head. Through the foggy passenger side glass, the others waited under an overhang of trees, each covered in a layer of protective plastic.
    She scooted to her side of the cab. The numbers and letters on the gear shift were smudged and worn, probably from years of use. It was the only part of the truck’s interior that wasn’t immaculate. The pebble gray dash shined, dust free. Freshly vacuumed mats spread across the floor, and there wasn’t a single piece of trash to be found. It was a far cry from Annie’s car. No matter how often she cleaned, she always found at least two stray French fries stuffed in between the seats.
    Phillip pounded on the driver’s side, waving at her through the drops streaking the window. “Okay, okay. I’m coming,” she muttered, not bothering to roll the window down again. With a deep breath, she straightened her poncho and flung open the passenger door.
    Warm water pelted her body through the thin plastic, and the sound of rain smacking the earth rose up, deafening her. She swung her right leg out of the truck, ready to sprint toward the rest of the group. But her foot disappeared into a pool of cold muck, and the mud kept climbing, sucking her further into the pit. She slipped and slid along the edge of the vehicle as the rain pelted her eyes and cheeks.
    After a solid thirty seconds of cursing and tugging and sliding deeper into the sludge, Annie managed to steady herself, but the weight of the mud and the strange angle of her body kept her stuck—half in, half out of the truck and floundering in the raging monsoon. From across the mud pit, the others shouted at her, but she couldn’t understand them over the drumming of the rain and the thudding of her own heart.
    With a grunt, she yanked her leg upward, using the handle of the truck for leverage. The brown goop gave a little, and her foot came loose. With a second pull, it dangled free. The rain slowed, leaving her hanging from the open door. She stood perched on the doorframe, afraid to go inside. Afraid to coat the pristine truck interior with the thick, red-brown goop.
    “I tried to tell you to come