Read End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) for Free Online Page B

when he crouched and listening
to his whispered instructions. When night fell, my eyes adjusted to the light
of the full moon and I became wary of the sounds around us. Unseen things
scurried away from our footsteps. Coyotes could be heard in the distance, their
barks more like laughter when they called to each other. Spider webs glistened
on top of Pedro’s head in the moonlight. I reached up and felt the sticky
material in my hair too. I took a steadying breath and gripped the back of his
shirt, his closeness helped to ease my fear.
    “We’re getting close to
the border,” Pedro said. “We’re in between two checkpoints. Stick close to me
and when I tell you to run, I mean it.” The brush had thinned out so we didn’t
create a lot of noise as we moved forward, but we didn’t have as much cover
either. We walked in silence for what seemed like forever. I concentrated on
stepping exactly where Pedro did to avoid any rocks or holes which would trip
me. We passed a tower of rocks stacked largest to smallest and there was
movement to our left plus the sound of a twig breaking.
    Pedro’s whisper was harsh.
“Run!” He sprinted off ahead of me and it took a second to get my feet moving.
I ran behind him, my bag bumping on my backside. Pedro kicked up dust and it
burned my throat. I picked up my pace and ran alongside him. Our breathing grew
ragged and my lungs ached. I couldn’t hear if anyone was behind us because of
the blood pounding in my head. Finally, Pedro slowed to a walk and then
stopped. He unhooked his canteen from his bag, took a swig then handed it to
me. Even though the water was warm, it was wet and hit my parched mouth like
rain hitting the desert. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grit
smeared across my cheek. I gave the canteen back.
    “Welcome to the Estados
Unidos, Juanita,” Pedro said and gave me a lopsided grin before taking another
sip.
    “Really?”
    “Si, the rocks back there
are a marker for the border. I think we’re about a half mile in now.”
    I glanced around, not
sure what to expect. “It’s just like Mexico,” I said and Pedro laughed.
    We took a few minutes to
catch our breath before continuing on. I had no idea what time it was, but judging
by the canvas of stars overhead, I guessed it was late. The journey was wearing
on me, my eyes felt full of sand and I fell into a zone, focused on keeping up
with my brother.
    My calves began to cramp
and I asked Pedro to slow down. “You need more water,” he said and handed me
his canteen. I sat down on a rock and took a few big gulps. “Are you hungry?”
he asked. I nodded and he took a brown paper bag out of his backpack. We each
ate tamale. I savored every bite. It had been less than a day since we began
our journey, but it already seemed like I’d been traveling a month. I missed my
niña.
    “How much longer?” I
asked Pedro.
    “We’re almost to Bisbee
and Enrique arranged for someone to drive us just north of Phoenix.”
    “I didn’t think it would
be so hilly.”
    “It’s almost all uphill.
At least we have a ride.”
    It hurt to stand, but I
did and brushed off the back of my jeans. Pedro offered to carry my bag and
this helped. We walked for about another hour and the sky started to lighten to
the east. What was once black turned a dusky gray. I began to see signs of
civilization; a wooden electricity pole in the distance, a roof top in between
the trees, and piles of cow dung. We passed a small herd of cattle; they regarded
us with disinterest and continued to chew in their lazy way.
    Next we passed an
abandoned house. The warped wood siding had long ago faded to gray and its ends
curled up in some places. Broken windows reminded me of hollow eyes. I hurried
past and moved closer to Pedro. Uneven terrain gave way to a dirt road, which
led to a single lane paved street. My brother pulled a piece of paper out of
his pocket and surveyed the area around us.
    “What is that?” I asked.
    “A map and