CHAPTER ELEVEN
The following morning, Mia headed out on foot up 674, otherwise known as the Texas Pecos Trail, in search for the old Alamo Village, hoping she could hitch a ride.
As she was walking, thumb out, she saw a couple of Border Patrol vehicles out in the fields.
Great. Feds.
Squinting in the bright sunlight, she shielded her eyes with her hand and scanned the area for their familiar green uniforms. She didn’t see them. Mia had met a few friends in the Border Patrol while in training, so she knew that they were short-staffed, considering the amount of land they had to cover. Many of them just sat on an X, watching the U.S./Mexico border, all day, while sometimes, they just left a truck out there, which was often enough of a deterrent.
She couldn’t see anybody in the driver’s s
