Theo and the conductor placed each of us in our own wooden box, long and narrow with small breathing holes drilled in them, stamped with labels like maritime blueberries and 100% pure maple syrup that weren’t so obvious at first glance. Then they screwed the tops down tight. Lying still, I listened to the grind and squeal of the metal against wood with an intoxicating mix of fear and relief. We were trapped, but at least we were away. On the move to somewhere else, somewhere far away from schools and the dead boy in the woods. Away from the truth that had put him there.

The box was hard; it was not forgiving, but I didn’t deserve forgiveness. I wasn’t sure what I deserved. Maybe exactly this—to be trapped in a coffin-shaped pine box with just enough space to scratch an itch as long as I didn’t have to bend a knee or turn on my side. Or maybe this box was what Mitch deserved. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was his feet sticking out of the underbrush—one shoe, one sock. I could spot his ruse clear as day—the sock was clean, no holes. The school officials really should’ve take those details into consideration. A traveler with clean socks was unheard of. I made a mental note before realizing what I was doing—gathering intel like a good little agent.

I shook my head. What the hell was the matter with me? No, the information wasn’t for them. It was for us. Keep the note, but use it for the group; check the socks of any future strangers we might come across. As if I’d let anyone get that close to us ever again.

On this journey, I had nothing but time. I wasn’t used to being so passive, to letting the miles slip by without the effort of physically gaining them. I used all these minutes to imagine what Rose was doing right now as we trundled over the land along unending tracks in boxes stacked under more boxes. Correction: what Rose and Derrick were doing. On the one hand, I was glad she wasn’t alone. On the other, why did it have to be Derrick, of all people? And why just the two of them? I didn’t trust that guy farther than I could throw him, and right now I couldn’t even flex to reach my own neck, let alone anyone else’s.

The journey wasn’t the smoothest. The rails were knitted by overgrowth in some places. Everywhere it could, the Earth was taking back space, one brick and one track at a time. The movements of our car were louder than they were jostling. I settled into the small rocking motion, back and forth, back and forth, trying to move with the sway instead of fighting it with tightened muscles. I wondered if this was how Wab’s baby felt when she walked around. At least she wasn’t running now. And if this worked out for us, she wouldn’t ever have to anymore.