Borderline [On hold for major revision]

Chapter 6: Unexpected Call

Dedicated to RavynD for all the nice comments, conversations, and overall being an awesome individual. Plus Warrior's Trial is one of my top favorite books on Wattpad. If you're into Christian spiritual warfare books I definitely recommend checking it out.

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Chapter 6

When I woke up the next morning—I hoped it was morning, anyway—the sun was already bright in the sky and burning my eyes. I slowly opened them, adjusting to the light as fast as possible. When I could finally see normally, I tried to sit up. Ouch. My whole body was sore. Insides, outsides, everything. I thought the gash on my arm hurt a couple days ago, but that was nothing compared to this. It was like that times ten.

I looked at the phone still in my pocket for the time. 2:00 p.m. No way. I've never slept that long in my life. That meant I was at least six hours late for work. I also noticed that I had a missed text. It was from a really good friend of mine, Hector Estrella.

 

Heard what happened. Meet me later?

That was strange; I hadn't heard from him in months. He'd been keeping a low profile since he'd almost been caught in March. It was September now.

Built like an ox with a heart just as big, Hector was the first illegal immigrant I'd ever agreed to help. I had come upon him and his wife while patrolling the border one night almost two years ago now. His wife was nine months pregnant at the time and looked like she was ready to give birth right then and there. When she actually did, I had panicked and forgotten to call it in. At the time I had full intention to turn them in, but when that cute little baby popped out I just couldn't help but want to help them out. I secretly brought them and the new baby to my house and let them stay for a few weeks until they could find other living arrangements.

While they were living with me, I spent practically the whole time reading up on the immigration laws to find out what would happen to their kid if they were deported, as well as alternative options for them to return legally if that happened. While doing so I realized how flawed the current system was. I couldn't think of a way to make it better, but that didn't change the fact that it was broken. It was simply too hard for well-meaning immigrants to legally enter the United States and live a normal life out of poverty.

That was when Hector and I had our idea. We decided that when he was able to get a more stable lifestyle and earn some money for himself, he would start buying properties deep in the desert that could house multiple people at one time while not drawing too much suspicion. My role was to take good immigrants like Hector and point the way to those places where they could stay for a while, unbothered by Border Patrol or other government agencies. It took several months for him to get on his feet, but he actually managed to become a senior business advisor for a popular cleaning company. He was making even more than I did, which admittedly wasn't saying much.

Then in March some CBP officers began digging into his past, and Hector felt the need to lay low for a while. He now lived on a ranch a few miles outside Falkner and didn't really communicate with the outside world much other than the occasional venture into the city for food and a newspaper. I wondered how he'd heard what happened with the car when he was so isolated from society.

I typed on the tiny electronic keyboard and responded to his text:

 

Ur house?

There used to be a time when he wouldn't mind coming to my house, but now he was a little paranoid and wouldn't dare coming to the home of a Border Patrol agent, friend or not. I didn't blame him—I'd be careful too if I had a wife and little boy on the line.