Fugitives

by Jes Drew

“Thank you for taking care of my children for me,” Aunt Donna says.

  “Well, I am their grandma.”.

  “Even if this whole thing is bad for business, it’s good for family,” I say.

  “Yeah,” Joseph agrees, startling me. “I almost wish that I brought my dad along. Almost.”

  The café’s doors open just then and the Christopher step inside.

  I rush over to him. “Did they ask for extra money?”

  Christopher nods.

  I cover my face. “Oh, no-”

  Christopher pulls my hands away from my face and smiles. “Emily, God has our best in mind- He won't give us anything less than that.”

  “But what are we going to do now?”

  “Ride in our new bus.”

  “Huh?”

  Mr. Williams steps in just then.

  “God works in mysterious ways,” Christopher adds. “Never forget that, Emily.”

  “Williams?” Dad asks when he sees Christopher's dad. “How did you get here?”

  “Ever since the Island incident I've found ways to track my son,” he answers, putting his hand on Christopher's shoulder. Then he glances over to Joseph, who's come up to Christopher too. “Despite a certain friend's technical achievements.”

  “What?!” Joseph cries. “I've been bested?!”

  Christopher pats Joseph's shoulder comfortingly.

  “Good thing the Masters didn't find out about that,” I say, forcing a laugh. That would have been so very, very bad- if not for us, then for Mr. Williams.

  Mr. Williams gives me a sad sort of smile like I'm so innocent and he doesn't want to change that. Then he walks over to the adults' table. With a slight limp.

  “What did they do to you?” I breathe, my innocence shattering into a million pieces.

  “Nothing that wouldn't prevent me from being camera ready, I assure you. And nothing that made it impossible to turn down their demands for my investing in them or giving information about my son's whereabouts.”

  “But how?” I whisper, still not quite registering the horror. Did the Masters seriously hurt people I loved just because I did what my conscious dictated I do? “How were you so strong?”

  “God will always give us the strength we need to persevere,” he answers, taking his seat.

  I keep staring at him for a long moment. Then I turn to my parents. “Did the Masters… Did they torture you too?”

  Their conversation stops for a moment. Then Mom turns around with a forced smile. “Well, being kept away from our business for so long was torture- not even mentioning being used as bait for our own children.”

  “But it's over now,” Dad assures, putting his arm around Mom's shoulders.

  Pursing my lips, I step toward them. “But did they physically hurt you?”

  “Honey, why would they torture us?” Mom asks. “We don't have the money Williams has, and for being inventors we weren't prepared for your new phone upgrades.”

  I nod, consoled. And I try to ignore the fact that Dad is wincing ever so slightly with the effort to have his arm on Mom's shoulders.

  “With Father's money he brought we were able to purchase an outdated tourist bus, Emily,” Christopher says, obviously trying to get my mind off of such a dark subject. “The owner was very glad to be rid of it so he gave it to us cheap.”

  “How promising,” Joseph mutters.

  “As long as it’s more spacious than our rental car, I’m good,” I say. And as long as we're not broke.

  “It is,” Christopher assures. “Oh, trust me, it is.”

  After the Williams order meals to go, we all pile into the bus. There are more than enough seats for everyone.

  I glance around the bus. The exterior had been nicely shined, and the interior is clean. The seats are slightly faded, but they'll do. However, the bus smells slightly like Chase’ socks (and those ain’t pleasant smelling, believe me).

  I shake my head. God does indeed work in mysterious ways.

  “So, where should we go?” Dad asks.

  Everyone glances at each other and whispered conversations fill the air.

  “Belgium?” I offer.

  Dad nods. “Sounds good to me. Any objections?”

  “I want to go to Euro Disney,” Mary-Ann offers.

  “Belgium it is, then.”

  “So, what now?” Aunt Donna asks. “Do we just drive there?”

  “I guess so,” Dad says. “We adults will take turns so we can travel almost continuously.”

  “I’ll take first shift,” Mr. Williams offers.

  “Go right ahead,” Dad agrees, sitting down next to me.

  Mom sits on my other side. I’m sandwiched between my parents once again. To think, two weeks ago, when I was rescued from the sea, I was celebrating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich- they’re good, but I like this sandwich much better.

  Christopher takes a seat in front of us. He has an uncharacteristic wicked glint in his eyes.

  “Mr. Rogers, Mrs. Rogers,” he says. “you should hear the news from me…”

  “What news?” Mom asks.

  “Well, you see, your daughter and I are engaged.”

  Both my parents whip their heads down at me and I blush. Of course.

  Oh, boy.

  ~~~

  I gaze out of the bus window at the stars. To think, they’re the same stars I gazed at on the Island. Weird.

  Dad mumbles something in his sleep and I turn around. Most of the passengers are also sleeping. Somebody is snoring very loudly (Ata? No. Joseph? No, they've both met their match: Uncle Gerald). Mom is driving. Christopher, who we cleared up as being actually engaged to a young lady named Michaela Smith, not Emily Rogers, is also sleeping.

  I get into a more comfortable position. I’m not big on sleeping in moving vehicles (they remind me of planes), but everyone’s quiet breathing is making me rather drowsy…

  But first I need to check something.

  Ever so gently, I pull the collar of Dad's shirt down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise across his shoulder blade.

  Cringing, I pull the shirt back up. Mom was wrong in saying that there was no reason for the Masters to torture them; there was the reason that it would hurt me and hurt me deep. I feel sick to my stomach. But even more than that, I feel a fire burning within me.

  Suddenly, even more than I want peace and security again, I want justice. The Masters must pay for what they've done to everyone- not least of all to the occupants of this bus.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m not the first to wake up. I’m not the last to get up. I’m not even the stiffest (Uncle Gerald holds that honor thanks to the awkward way Chase was lying on him, unlike Ata, since Joseph all but barked at anyone who approached her in her 'condition'). But the important thing is that I do wake up; I do brave the new day.

  I pull myself out from between my two sleeping parents and join the other awake individuals who are stretching in the walkway of the bus.

  “Who’s driving?” I ask Ata, reminding myself that even though we're still fugitives, at least we're all still alive.

  “I am,” Aunt Donna calls.

  Oh, no, we’re going to die. “Oh...Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” she echoes. “By the way, we’ll be stopping for breakfast in about half an hour.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We stop at another café (what can I say? When in France...). Its pastries taste just as good as they smell. I really need to leave this country soon or else I’ll start resembling a cream puff myself.

  As I finish up an éclair something or other (one doesn’t need a name to enjoy), the café doors swing open.

  I glance over and find a red-head in a leather jacket giving us a wry smile. She walks right over to the half of the café occupied by our group.

  “Hi, guys,” Holly greets.

  “Uh, hi,” I answer, a napkin frozen halfway to my mouth.

  “Do you know that girl?” Mom whispers to me.

/>   “Kind of.” I glance over to Oto, but he’s turned himself around and is defiantly glaring out the window.

  “I take it things didn’t go so well at the party,” Holly says, eying Oto.

  “Oh, everything was fine at the party,” Christopher answers. “It was what happened afterward.”

  “Yeah,” Oto mutters. “Apparently there were special trackers on the data or something because they found us. Would’ve been nice if someone had warned us.”

  “Look, I didn’t know-”

  “Oh, yeah,” Oto interrupts, “you’re the queen of naivety. Sorry, I forgot.”

  Mom and Dad give each other a what-is-going-on-here? Look.

  I give them an it-remains-to-be-seen Look.

  “I’m sorry if you lost your data,” Holly answers. “But, hey, at least you’ve gotten your families back- that is them right?” She turns to the adults and waves. “Hi, I’m Holly.”

  “Hello, Holly,” Uncle Gerald, ever the gregarious one, greets.

  “Having them back isn’t enough,” Oto mutters before turning to the adults. “No offense.”

  Mom shakes her head, probably thinking she was right all along that he was trouble.

  “I know having them back isn’t enough,” Holly agrees before looking back at my family. “No offense.”

  Uncle Gerald smiles and nods. “None taken.”

  She turns back to Oto. “And that’s why I’m here.”

  “You have incriminating evidence that we can use against the Masters?” Oto asks, doubt written on every word.

  “Yes, I do actually.”

  I lean forward excitedly. “You do?”

  Holly nods.

  Oto crosses his arms. “How did you get away with it when we didn’t?”

  “I don’t suppose you heard of Al Capone?”

  Oto shakes his head.

  “Well, he was a Chicago crime lord. Everyone knew what he was, but nobody could seem to arrest him.”

  “And?”

  “The IRS- the group in charge of the US’ taxes- caught him guilty of tax evasion, and he was convicted. Something the police couldn’t manage.”

  “And?”

  “And my step-dad and his brothers are guilty of the same crime: tax evasion. Also, unlike their other crimes, they don’t use top-notch security to conceal it because, hey, what's some tax evasion compared to slave trade?” Holly removes a hard drive from her back-pack. “Ta-da!”

  Christopher and I both jump up and hurry over to the hard drive. Joseph joins us with his laptop, takes the hard drive from Holly, and plugs it in.

  Joseph scrolls through the documents on the hard drive. “This’ll do it all right.”

  A mental list of all the people I’m forever indebted to:

  (1) My parents for- duh- raising me;

  (2) Lucy from junior high for kindly informing the tragic truth that jean jumpers are not cool;

  (3) The mysterious superhero, the Ninja, for rescuing me from a mugging;

  (4) Christopher for rescuing me from drowning (in more than one way);

  (5) Oto for saving me from a bear;

  (6) Mickey for hiding me from the Masters’ henchmen;

  (7) Madame Monique for the same thing;

  (8) Holly for giving us the key to the Masters’ undoing (Did that sound sinister to anyone else?);

  “We need to get these to the French government,” I say. “And maybe, when they investigate the Masters, they’ll find all their other horrible secrets.”

  “Wait!” Oto cries. “That would mean going back to Paris, right? That’s the Masters’ territory. We could be walking into a trap. This could all be a set up.” He glares at Holly.

  “It’s not,” Holly assures.

  Oto continues to glare at her.

  “Fine.” She holds up her wrists as if expecting us to handcuff her. “Take me with you as collateral.”

  “Deal,” Christopher answers.

  “You’re not the leader here,” Oto points out.

  “Deal,” I retort. “If Christopher trusts her, then I trust her. And she’s already helped us before.”

  “See!” Oto cries. “She’s doing it again. She’s making you think she’s your friend. She’ll end up betraying you like she did me.”

  “That’s why she’s coming with us as collateral,” I point out.

  “You’ll end up having to flee the Masters again if you’re wrong.”

  I shrug. “I’m used to it. You’ll end up eating humble pie if you’re wrong.”

  “I think he’d prefer fleeing the Masters,” Christopher loudly whispers to me.

  Holly laughs. “Especially since I’ll be feeding Oto the pie myself.”

  I smirk. You know what? I think I like Holly. She’s got spunk.

  “So we’re going back to Paris?” Grandmother asks.

  “I am,” I answer. “But I’m done with this leader business; the rest of you can choose for yourselves.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Grandmother says.

  “As will we,” Mom adds, gesturing to Dad and herself.

  “It’s about time that we stood by you,” Dad agrees.

  Uncle Gerald and Aunt Donna nod.

  “I’m not being left behind again,” Chase says.

  Mary-Ann nods quite decidedly. “Me neither.”

  “And I have some unfinished business with the Masters,” Mr. Williams agrees, rubbing his bad leg.

  “My ankle’s healed,” Ata says, “so it’s about time that I carried my own weight.”

  “I’m going too,” Joseph adds a little too quickly. “I mean, I haven’t had my fill of adventure yet.”

  Ata rolls her eyes. “You monkey.”

  “He does rather resemble a monkey,” Christopher whispers to me. “What Ata does, he does.”

  I stifle a giggle and turn to him. “Are you coming?”

  “Do you even have to ask? I’m with you all the way.”

  I turn to Oto.

  He throws his hands into the air. “Somebody’s got to be there to say ‘I told you so.’”

  “That won’t be you,” Holly counters.

  “Yeah,” Ata agrees. “That’s too much like slang.”

  Aunt Donna pulls the bus’ keys out of her pocket. “Well, let’s be going.”

  ~~~

  “What are you doing?” I ask Joseph, who is on his laptop yet again.

  “I’m not making the same mistake twice,” he answers. “I’m sending the French government a tip about the Masters.

  “Good idea.”

  “Well, I did come up with it.”

  I roll my eyes and scan the bus. It now has two new occupants: Holly and her motorcycle.

  “We’re almost there,” Uncle Gerald (we decided that we wanted to live so we ousted Aunt Donna) calls from the driver’s seat.

  We’re almost to Paris. But it’s not too late to turn back…

  Actually, it is. I have not been through all I’ve been through these last two weeks to just turn back now. I will not give in. I will not give up.

  I will persevere.

  ~~~

  I will wait in the bus and twist my hair.

  “Do you see them yet?” I ask Dad, who’s sitting in the driver’s seat of our parked bus and therefore has the best view.

  “Not yet.”

  Oh, why did I let Christopher talk me into staying behind with the others while he, Mr. Williams, Joseph, and Holly went inside the building to turn in the evidence? I mean, sure, I wouldn’t have anything useful to add, especially since I’m no longer the leader, but at least I wouldn’t be here twisting and untwisting my hair.

  Running with Masters would be better than this. Perseverance isn't the same thing as patience apparently…

  And Oto isn’t helping.

  “She probably didn’t betray me to be mean,” Oto says. “She’s always been rather mischievous.”

  “Like you,” Ata adds.

  Oto ignores her. “And when I kissed her, she couldn’t pass up
an opportunity to get me in trouble. Sometimes she just takes things too far-”

  “Maybe you’re taking things too far,” Ata retorts.

  I continue twisting my hair.

  “They’re back!” Dad calls.

  I jump up. “Really?”

  Dad nods.

  A moment later, Christopher, Joseph, Mr. Williams, and Holly climb back into the bus.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “I believe that they believed us,” Mr. Williams announces. “Though, we should probably watch the news from a safe distance.”

  Dad nods and starts the bus.

  ~~~

  In hopefully the last hotel room that I’ll be staying in for some time, I watch the news with the same interest as the rest of the group.

  A French reporter with black hair and a beret is talking on the news. English words below translate her words for us.

  “The seventy year-old, family-run company, Tropical Treasures, is in jeopardy as its owners, the Masters brothers, were arrested for tax evasion. During the investigation, the police found possible indications that the Masters were involved with the disappearances of the Rogers children and the Williams boy. There are also rumors that the Masters may be involved with slave labor. Further investigation will no doubt bring to light many of these issues.”

  The news story fades into commercials.

  The Masters are behind bars! The news is like an airy balloon floating away with all my troubles.

  Wait, what does this mean for Holly’s mom? Just like that someone pops my balloon.

  I glance over to Holly, who is happily force-feeding Oto his humble pie. If she’s upset about anything, she hides it well.

  But hiding it she may very well be.

  What must it be like to choose between unjust family and victimized friends?

  Thankfully, I will never know. My family is with my one hundred percent.

  That wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for this who fugitives ordeal. In fact, there are other positives about the Masters finding us in Britain. For one thing, they’re in jail now and their Island is free from their reign. I don’t know what’s to come of the natives, but it’s got to be better than they had. Also, Holly and Oto are friends (well, kind of) again. Joseph had his adventure. I met Mickey, who I need to remember to call since I doubt Joseph will. Christopher and I are closer- we’re all closer.