Page 51 of Marks of Rebellion

Since he kicked her out of the back seat, no one has spoken other than Hunter, who only murmurs to me that I'm safe and everything is going to be okay.

He removes his blanket out of the bag and wraps it around me then embraces me in his arms again.

We've been on the road so long, the sky is turning dark. I snuggle into his warmth, praying I'll stop trembling soon. Ryker pulls over for gas. He puts the pump in the tank and stands next to our door. "We need to make a decision."

Hunter strokes my hair. "What's that?"

"Do we cut west into Guatemala tonight or keep south? The most direct way to Omoa is south, but is it going to be easier to get into Guatemala if we go a bit west?"

"I'm not familiar with the borders of Belize. Are you?"

"No. But if we cut west, we can hit a freeway. If we go south, we're going to be on rough terrain.”

Guatemala.

I sit up straighter, and for the first time since Hunter got into the back seat, look at his face. "Don't take me to Guatemala. Please."

"We have to go through Guatemala to get to Honduras."

My heart starts beating faster again. "I don't want to go there."

"There's no way around it," Ryker informs us.

"The guerillas are all over Guatemala. Please, don't take me there," I beg again.

Hunter places his hand on my cheek. "We have to go through it, Flower. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe. No one is going to touch you."

No. Don't agree.

He'll keep me safe.

I can't be on their land.

"If they catch me in their country..." I turn away.

Julieta gets out of the car and slides into the seat next to us.

Hunter's body stiffens.

"What if we drove the Guatemalan coastline during daylight?" Julieta asks.

"What does that solve?" Hunter asks.

"The guerrillas are focusing their efforts on the western Belizean borders. If we go south and cross the border tomorrow, we can drive the coast and be in Honduras by nightfall."

"It's better if we cross borders in the dark," Ryker says.

"We can do that in the early morning, close to sunrise. That would be okay, wouldn't it?" Julieta asks.

"I suppose," he agrees.

I close my eyes.There's no way out of this.

"We would be crossing the Honduras border in the middle of the day," Hunter points out.

"Neither border will be a problem," Julieta says.

"Why not?"