Page 75 of Marks of Rebellion
Ryker stops the Jeep. "Wow. You weren't exaggerating."
"Nope."
"Well, the day isn't getting any younger." We all get out of the vehicle. Ryker opens the hood and tops off the windshield wiper fluid.
"What are we doing?" Hunter asks.
Julieta points down the hill. "One hundred yards past the bottom is Guatemala."
My mouth goes dry. "We're going down that?" One part of the path has a significant drop.
"That's a swamp," Hunter states.
Julieta shrugs. "Mmm...only in certain parts."
"Have you done this before?"
"Not in an SUV."
"What did you do it in?"
"An ATV."
"One meant for mud?"
"Yes, it had good tires."
"The Jeep can handle it," Ryker claims, then picks the tarp off Hunter's seat.
"What are we doing with that?" I ask.
"Covering the top and sides of the Jeep as best as possible," Julieta replies. The vehicle has large spaces in the roof and steel tube doors.
Hunter surveys the hill. "That's not a very wide path."
"Ryker will be fine driving through it," Julieta assures us.
"One bad slide and we could fly into a tree." Hunter barks.
"Do you have a better idea about how to get across the border?" Ryker questions him.
"Vanessa has a bad neck."
"I'll be fine." I assure him.
"You don't know that."
I grab an end of the tarp and help unfold it with Julieta and Ryker. "This will be fun." I'm not sure if we're making a good or bad decision, but I don't see what other options we have. Crossing the border and avoiding immigration is essential.
"Ryker," Hunter growls.
"You're outnumbered. There's not a lot of options. We've done more dangerous things before."
"Not with my woman, we haven't."
Ryker's eyes turn to slits. "I'm not planning on Vanessaor Julietagetting hurt."
"I wasn't—"
