“You get the electronics. I’ll grab clothes,” I say.
Relief floods their features. “Thank you.”
We split, and I grab the first bag I can find. I can’t spend too long overthinking it, but warm and dry are the key themes in my mind. Some underwear, shirts, and I see the chest binders and grab two of those too. Pajamas. Anything fleece. Jeans.
It’s enough. I run to our room and repeat the process, shoving them into a kit bag. On the way to the hall, I run my hand along the bathroom shelf, letting it all fall into my bag. Then grab our toothbrushes from the glass.
I run into the kitchen and do the same thing as the bathroom, scooping shit out from the cupboard into the shopping bags I left on the counter to add to the emergency supplies I already put in the truck.
“Ready?” I ask.
Wren looks longingly at half their setup, then back at me with tears in their eyes. “I’m scared.”
“I know. Wish I had more time to comfort you, but standing here won’t make you feel any safer.” I kiss their forehead, then lead our way outside.
Because of the layout of the ranch, you can’t see the clubhouse from the house. But I’m reluctant to put the truck lights on.
Instead, I allow the truck to quietly roll down the driveway that Atom has had plowed. When we get to the junction with the main road, I take the right turn, the one that leads us away from the clubhouse and the incoming FBI.
Wren is quiet as we ride, and I canfeelthe tension in their chest, see the strain in their posture. They were just beginning to relax, and I don’t want them to ramp up their anxiety any more than they have to, ever again.
“Where are we going?” Wren asks.
“There’s a place Atom and I go fishing in the summer. It’s on his land but way deep into it. We stay there for a few nights. It’s not pretty. In fact, it’s very basic. But we’ll be truly away from the heat.”
“Did you bring your phone?” Wren asks.
“No. I left it at the ranch. I’ve got a burner tucked under your seat. Paid cash for a pay-as-you-go phone. It’s turned off. You?”
“Ditched the SIM, kept the casing. I have spares. They’re in Faraday bags.”
The road eventually starts to narrow to nothing more than a snow-packed path, the trees looming tall and dark on either side of us. I focus on them, trying to see something I recognize, but we never come up here in winter, and things sure look different in summer.
Wren rubs their hands over their face, and I can feel their overwhelm starting to build.
“The cabin’s just ahead. No one is going to find us here unless they know every inch of the land.”
Wren pulls the jacket tighter around them, despite the warm air now blowing from the truck’s heating system. “Then I’ll make doubly sure no one finds us.”
There’s a waver in their voice, but they unzip their laptop bag and flip it open on their lap, the screen’s glow casting sharp angles on their face.
I wonder if they find their calm in being busy, because that I can help them with. When we get to the cabin, there’s going to be a lot we’re going to have to do in the cold to make it feasible to sleep in it. Although, I suppose we can just hunker in the truck until daylight.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m going to route us through layers of digital noise using my mirrored VPN chain across Eastern Europe, then a decoy node I spun up in Tampa.”
“What?”
“I travelled to Tampa a few years ago. Hated it. But while I was there, I set up a whole dark web account for an imaginary person. A guy. Think of it as digital crumbs. Now, there’s a years-old footprint for a fake person in Tampa.” Their fingers fly over the keyboard, the tap, tap, tap the only sound in the truck. “I’ll spin up a burner signal for Tampa. If anyone is running any geolocation scans, they’ll think I took the bus south. I’ll load up my old username and seed some false chatter about hiding out with that persona I created.”
I whistle at that. “I can see why your life is a bit fucked up, sweetheart. It’s like living in a conspiracy theory that you have to spend time building defenses against.”
This time, when Wren sighs, their breath judders. “I know how the FBI hunts; it’s why I’ve had to learn how to disappear.”
“And the cartel?”
They shrug. “They’re sending a hitman. It could be anyone. For all I know it could be you. You could be driving me to my death right now.”
