REM

Unsafe Passage

The forest road was one of the safest I knew of for smuggling goods across the border. Refugees used the same wooded area, man-made trails weaving between trees and winding around hills of green moss, dirt, and boulders. Many trails ran throughout the forest across the border, so if you weren't careful and lost your bearings, you wouldn't get very far.

ASUs – Airborne Sentinel Units – patrolled the forests, but with the right trail and camouflage, they wouldn't detect you. Only problem was, I ran these passages on a weekly basis. Daily was never an option since there would be too many ASUs sent out after a recent smuggling run, or refugees crossing over the border. I was smart about what I did, but that doesn't mean shit didn't hit the fan when you least expected it to.

I actually expected something to go wrong every time I heard the rumbling of transports driving down the roadway. It was an abandoned war road, one that still had crumbling asphalt present, which allowed a much easier run for goods being imported, or exported illegally.

As the trucks began making their way closer to the midway point, I stood with several people. This week's run had followed a near-debacle from last. We switched the run-day again as we always did, but it didn't help us avoid what was about to happen next.

Transports began to rush by with their trailers in tow. Many were electric in the mainland, but since they were too difficult to get a hold of, we had to opt for gasoline trucks that made lots of noise as they barreled along the decaying path.

Each one roared by. About half a dozen had passed before there was an explosion to the left of our location in the forest. Another diesel truck sped by, its trailer crooked, a wheel missing. The left side dipped off the road momentarily, then swung back so it was even with the cab. The driver didn't let off the gas, not even for a second.

Disappearing down the road, my instinct was to run. Everyone else followed as we began dodging around trees in our camouflage outfits and boots we had stolen from the old army base deep in the woods. The number of trucks that had made it through the passage was irrelevant as I ran for my life, my heart beating in my throat. Each crunch of leaves, or twigs underneath my feet urged me onward, to run faster and swifter.

Out of nowhere I tripped forward, tumbling to the ground as I rolled out of a face-plant. Before turning to run again, I saw all but one of the people in my small group caught in a rope net. They were secured at a height that was still reachable, which meant the trap had been set by us, perhaps for animals, or in case of ambush. Clearly I had missed the marker to signal it was ahead.

Shit, I thought, my head turning from side to side as I debated on whether or not to run. The ASUs would be close behind, potentially accompanied by ground units, or soldiers. Before I could decide what to do, black uniforms became visible through the brush from where we had ran. I picked up the young woman who had narrowly escaped the trap, then began to carry her away from the others.

They called out to me as I carried her, but there was nothing I could do for them. Two men and an older woman were left behind as the woman in my arms held tight.

After a solid five minutes of running I set her down and looked back. She hobbled on her injured ankle, so I put her arm around me and continued on.

The clearing up ahead was the point of no return. Once we walked out of the forest, she was free from the government oppression enforced by the robots. I was back on home soil as we stepped out into an open field, the last of the smuggling transports in the distance, heading up a hill and disappearing.

Today was a bad day. Not because I lost people behind me, but because a mistake was made that caused it to happen – my mistake. If it wasn't for that trap, everyone would be walking across the open field to freedom. This business was becoming more risky with each passing week. When I get back to the outpost, hard decisions will need to be made. I'm not so sure I can do this anymore, I seem to be slipping.