Page 80 of Juniper Unraveling

“Don’t look so tough when they’re strapped to a bed screaming, after their balls been chopped.” Both guards chuckle, and a loud thunk rattles my nerves.

Hands clenched in fists, I wait, listening for the boxes that slide across the gate.

At the sound of footfalls against the dirt, I take off on a dead run for the creosote. Hot sand burns the soles of my feet, but I keep on, and the moment I reach the patch, I slide onto my belly.

Seventy seconds. From behind the creosote bush, I watch them set down the boxes and return to the truck. Any movement would alert them, so although the sand is hot against my skin, I lie flat as I can and wait.

The second their backs turn to carry the final boxes, I army-crawl backward, deeper into the bushes.

Movement out of the corner of my eye sends a jolt down my spine, as a black-spotted lizard darts out from beneath the bush. I slap a hand to my mouth, and while shaky breaths through my nose keep me from screaming, I clamp my eyes shut and pray the men will soon leave.

* * *

At least an hour passes, I can no longer tell. I stopped counting seconds the moment the men sat on the back of the gate, lighting up cigarettes and tipping back silver flasks of something.

I lick my lips, so parched and dry, it’s a wonder they haven’t cracked off my face altogether. The sun beats down on my shaved head, blistering it with the sweat that beads across my skin. I’m surprised there’s any water left in me to sweat out.

Finally, the guards close the back of the tailgate, hop into the cab, and take off.

Once I can no longer see them down the dirt road, I push up from my hiding spot and cross the sand toward the warehouse. Maybe there’s water inside.

My mind longs to tease out why they would drop supplies off here, in the middle of nowhere. But I’m too exhausted. So desperate for food and water, I’m giving serious thought to going back for that lizard I saw earlier.

A heavy chain links the doors of the warehouse, held by a thick lock. I wriggle the lock, but it’s no use. The solid doors won’t budge, and it probably doesn’t matter, anyway. The only things in those boxes were files.

Glancing up, I check the position of the sun, relative to the dirt road ahead. Doctor Falkenrath said it’s a three-hour walk, with the sun at my right shoulder. From here, I estimate another hour—which isn’t impossible.

With the full force of the sun, though, it won’t be easy, either.

* * *

Fatigue settles deep inside my bones.

The edges ahead flicker as if they’re moving, vibrating in front me like a pool of water up ahead. I stumble along the dirt road, angling to the side with a bout of vertigo that sends me stumbling into the hot sand, and I right myself again.

“Man, it’s hot out here.”

The voice draws my gaze to the side, and I whimper at the sight of Raymond walking beside me.

“I’m … fine. I’m not … crazy. I know you’re a hallucination.”

“Does it matter out here, if you’re crazy, or not?”

“What do you want? Why do you keep showing up?”

“Would you rather be alone?”

No. Even if it makes me insane to talk to a hallucination, it’s a comfort out here.

“This is … a bit longer than you … estimated.” The heat and exhaustion leave me breathless and woozy.

He glances up toward the sun, shielding his eyes with his hand. “Have you been paying attention to the sky? You’re a little off track.”

My muscles sag under the weight of defeat and fatigue, as I peer up.

The sun has moved position over my left shoulder.

“Oh, no. Where do I go?”