Before we pass the first checkpoint, I
wake Alden up and hide in the back seat beneath the blankets while
he takes the wheel. I assume Maxine has alerted the guards by now,
sent a fax to the front and maybe the MPs are already assembled,
waiting for us. God, I can’t believe Al managed to talk me into
letting him help. This isn’t just my rank anymore; it’s his as
well. Max won’t let this die, and Alden might never get that drink
with the soldier back at the guard house after all.
Alden slows down as we reach the
outskirts of the camp. This time there’s no flirting with the guard
when he hands over his papers. A thin tension stretches between us.
I’m afraid to breathe, afraid to move; my legs cramp, my nose
itches. I want to yawn and can’t.
One move and the soldier at the window
