GUIDED

The alarm wailed above me as I typed in the code for the second time. I tapped the small part of my headset praying to hear my brother’s voice.

“Give it to me again.” I ordered.

“T minus 58 seconds. You’ll never make it.” He said.

I glanced at the scribble written on the lined paper. Frustrated with my many failed attempts.

“Get out of there.” I heard him say.

“I’m coming Zen.” I spat.

I sprinted across the house and turned the door to the basement. The sound of sirens in the distance muffled by the blaring alarm. I breathed out slowly as I turned the knob to the right and pulled the door to me. I was careful to take three steps to my left before walking down the wood rotten stairs. I searched for the familiarity of the day light beaming through the crawl space window. Dust fell to the floor as footsteps became more apparent. I slid my body through the small frame, though not as big as I remember.

The heavy glass closed instantly behind me. The shouting of two officers quickly following. I listened as they rambled around from the front of the home into the space where I had just been. Zen’s voice again appearing in my ear.

“You’ve got a clear path about twenty feet from you to your west.” He said.

I began to remove my excess clothing. The skull cap to mask my hair. The leather gloves so I was cautious. The black fleece jacket that hid the fact that it covered the frame of a woman. I made my way west and kept my head below the line of the house. I threw the articles of clothing in the neighboring trash bin.

The sound of the alarm was distant. But the sound of policemen grew. I looked down at my feet covered in the leaves of autumn. I Pressed my back up to the brick of the neighboring home twenty feet away as I was told. I closed my eyes as I let out a small sigh. My breath, visible in the cold air.

“Did you get it?” Zen asked.

My eyes shifted to the forest that lined the houses. The sound of a twig snapping caught my attention. I had to make sure I was alone before responding.

“I’m trying to make sure we’re not being followed.”

My thoughts were distracted by the burst of a door. My heart skipped as I whipped around to see a familiar face.

“Get in here.” Zen whispered sternly. “Now!”

I gasped and it drew the attention of one of the officers. I ducked down again hoping to not be seen. The officer’s eyes were searching through the wooded area I had once been. He turned in the opposite area and I sprinted up the three steps leading into a shed. Zen’s hand immediately went to my mouth. The initial shock of his presence had made too much noise. Through a small stained glass window, we watched the frustrated officers looking around for my presence. One threw his flashlight in defeat. A small sigh was let out in relief. I turned to my brother eager for answers.

“Here.” I said extending my hand. “I got it.”

I held the leather black book between my fingers. I watched as a smirk arose on Zen’s face.

“Come.” He said. “Let’s get out of here.”

He bent down to brush the debris and fallen leaves off the door built into the floor. He pulled a small silver flashlight from his back pocket and looked around. The tunnel only appearing with the small amount of light given.

I looked back through the window to read the letters on the mailbox for the very last time. The place that was supposed to be home, for so many years, would now be in my rearview. A small amount of sadness brewed in me as it was the only familiarity I’d ever known. I was hesitant as I crawled through the head space that led into the tunnel being sure to close the latch behind me.

“Stay close.” He said. “You should be able to fully stand up once we reach the corner.”

I followed Zen for twenty minutes staring at the same piece of paper. I was never allowed to be this far from the house. Here I was, at seventeen years old and I had never even been down the street. My heart raced as I thought of a million questions. None of which Zen had the answers to. His answers had come from the same black book mine did. I still remember entering the room we shared at the house. I had found the book in our home library.I read the notes inside cover to cover before sharing it with my brother. The image of Zen flipping through it rapidly still replays in my mind. At the time he was frantic and asking me a hundred questions. Even with it in hand I had no clue how to answer them. I had been in that library a million times. I couldn’t help but to think it was placed there purposely. Zen’s initial reaction was denial. He wanted to tell our father immediately until I convinced him not to. His second reaction had turned into this. He was driven for answers. He was driven to know the truth. That was a week ago. Since that week, nothing had been the same. I refrained from my urge to bombard him with the same questions. My doubt was settling in. Even with proof right in front of me. Some would say the doubt I felt was Stockholm syndrome. However, I didn’t know what to call it. What I did know was that the words in the book would forever be etched in my memory.

We reached a pass that had a black ladder and a duffle bag.

“This is it.” He said looking at the book. “Here hold it while I climb up.”

I gripped it between my arms guarding it as if I were guarding it with my life. He used the ladder to climb to the top of a hole I knew only he created.

“The duffle has clothes in it. We need to change out of our uniform to avoid being spotted. I’m sure we are somewhere on the radar by now.”

“They're going to know where we are the moment he comes back and realizes his black book is missing.” I said panically. “Mr.Shaw said-”

He stopped clawing at the roof of our exit and looked at me sternly. He placed both hands on my shoulders with a firm grip.

“That man is not our family. I know you remember. I remember. Now remember why we’re doing this. Do you understand?” He asked.

I nodded and did as I was told. I waited as he began to break through the debris of our exit. I opened the book, telling myself, this would be the last time I opened it. I read the address for the millionth time. My eyes guided across the paper to the detailed map drawn below. Anxiety passed over me realizing what this would mean. I took the paper out of my pocket and began to place it with the other documents in the black book. Sorrow washed over me as the photos of missing children stared back at me. Rage replaced that same sorrow looking at the children in the middle of the page. “Zen and Zane Mitchell. Age 7.” It read.

I closed the book and slid it into the top of the bag. I placed our uniforms in the bag over the book so as to not leave any evidence behind. Zen broke open the roof to the tunnel and light poured in. I threw the bag over my body and followed him up the ladder. I made it halfway up before I realized something was falling out of the bag. With one hand still on the ladder I looked down to zip up the pocket. It was halfway open, exposing the contents inside. My mouth fell open with disbelief.

“There’s money in here!” I shouted. “Did you know there was money in here?”

A finger rose to his mouth as if to gesture to remain quiet. He disregarded my question and continued into daylight. The tunnel led us out to a small road with little traffic. The sun was setting, making it better for us to blend in. We dusted off our clothes to the best of our ability and sprinted behind a nearby dumpster. I took the stacks of money out of the bag and began counting.

“This is 20,000 dollars.” I stated. “We need to find transportation and go to that address.”

He nodded in approval and we followed the directions on the map. I recited the directions aloud to myself over and over. We kept our heads down avoiding street cameras. We walked side roads and avoided major intersections. We weaved through the back of buildings to avoid being spotted, just as we were told. Upon reaching the train station, we blended in with the crowd. We greeted the attendant and asked for two tickets to Columbia, Georgia.

I used part of the money in the duffle and handed it to the attendant. I gave a small smile and waited with Zen until it was time to board. A voice came over the earpiece in our ears. I almost forgot I still had it. My brother and I gave each other a look of disbelief.

“I’m glad you made it safely.” I heard her say.

Tears brimmed my eyes as I remembered the familiarity of her voice. I thought I had convinced myself to forget.

“Hi mom.” I said shakily.