Brother Brian looked disgusted. But Brother Andrew was all smiles and comfort. “Jesus hears your suffering, sister. He knows what you are giving up in his name. You will reap the dividends of this investment in your soul.”

He helped her up and guided her to the opposite bench, where she laid down and continued to clutch her throbbing head. She drifted off, or passed out, and when she came to, the interior of the car had been scrubbed clean, leaving behind only a brown stain and the lingering smell of sick and antiseptic. Sasha guessed an hour or more had passed, although, without her deck, it could have been more. They were in the woods now, driving along a country road.

Brother Andrew explained that they were just a few minutes away from the border, and almost as far as an automobile could take them. Soon they’d stop in the town of Franklin, right on the border of the UCS, and she’d meet the men who would help her on the next stage of her journey,

“The main border stations are blanketed with cameras,” Brother Andrew said. “But we’re right in the thick of the Blue Ridge Mountains here. They can’t watch every inch of ’em. We have some coyotes here who know where the ‘holes’ are. One of them will spirit you across.”

“Coyotes?” Sasha asked.

“It’s an old term,” he said. “A coyote is someone who helps smuggle people across national borders. Usually the phrase has somewhat…mercenary connotations. But the men we work with are true believers, soldiers in the Army of God. You needn’t fear, Miss Marion.”

A few minutes later, they rolled into Franklin. She’d never heard of the place before, but a quick look around told her most of what she needed to know. Most of the buildings were empty. The storefronts were boarded up. The City Hall was in disrepair, and the skeleton of a once-mighty Walmart Supercenter dominated the south side of town. There was clear fire damage around its roof and entrances. Twenty or so years ago, when the Civil War had been at its height, Franklin had swollen with refugees. When the war had ended, the refugees had gone elsewhere, and the city had been left gutted and exhausted in their absence.

The car stopped outside of a public park. Sasha noticed that the grass was overgrown, and the sidewalks around it were cracked and broken. She shared a quick prayer with Brothers Andrew and Brian, and then they bid her farewell. The car pulled away and Sasha was alone. She’d been told to find a park bench and wait “just a few minutes.” So that’s what she did.