Nick got the radio out.

  “It’s time,” Takumi said.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Takumi ignored me and slid open the side door of the van. “We should use the radios where no one can see us, and then take a break.” He pointed to a bent green freeway sign that read ‘Exit to Border.’ “We only have a few miles left. But, I’d rather get there first thing in the morning, after we’ve had some sleep, than arrive exhausted.”

  Takumi didn’t look at me as he spoke, but at least he was talking.

  I climbed into the van. Part of me wanted to keep going and find my parents, but I was also tired. “Let’s eat something and make the call. Afterward, we can see how we feel.”

  “I’m going to check the signal strength out here first.” Nick adjusted the volume on the radio. Static filled the air.

  Takumi climbed in.

  I sat up and made room for him next to me. He hesitated for a moment, then joined me.

  I squeezed his hand. He laid his head back on the car seat, and closed his eyes.

  Nick scooted across the middle seat and left the sliding door open. “Whistler, come in. This is Boots on the Ground,” he said.

  We waited. Nick adjusted the frequency, and tried again. We could hear Angelina’s voice, but not make out her words. He called to her once more. This time, we could hear every third word.

  “[Static]… sea. Heading… [static, static], do, [static], copy?”

  Nick held the radio to his mouth. “Whistler. We are a few miles from the border. All is well. Do you copy? Over.”

  “[Static], panels, static, fine, Whistler… [static].”

  It was no use. We were too far from the boat. But I’d heard the word “fine,” and that was good enough.

  I hadn’t worried too much about Whistler heading into Mexican waters, but now it sounded like we might need a permit to go across. Or maybe the permit was for something else. I couldn’t imagine that the Mexican Navy would be worried about one, small, sailboat. And if the Mexican authorities approached, Angelina promised to claim the boat was hers. And she had a Mexican passport. I hoped it would be enough.

  “We can’t hear you, Whistler. We’ll try you again tomorrow at four. This is Boots on the Ground, over and out.” Nick closed the van door and fell back on the soft seat.

  I passed my water bottle to the guys. My stomach growled. Takumi and I needed to talk, but I was too tired.

  Takumi must have felt the same and took me in his arms. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, it was the next morning.

  ****

  It had been over a month since I’d seen or felt the sun. Although the sky was still gray with thick clouds, and it seemed to rain a lot, it wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The impact of the tsunamis dumping massive amounts of salt water over the land, and the lack of sun, was taking a toll on the native plants and trees. Most of the palm trees were dead or dying. Grasses and weeds, however, seemed to be popping up everywhere. I wondered if in a few years, California would look like Seattle, the Emerald City?

  I missed the intense heat of the sun, and I longed to see sunsets and sunrises again. Some nights, the cloudy sky would turn a pinkish gray and memories of my life before the tsunamis would wash over me.

  This morning, the sunrise had been an unusual, reddish, gray. I remembered an old sailing poem. “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” Was the red sky trying to tell us something?

  We ate dried snake and shared what was left of our last water bottle as we headed toward the border. Another military convoy passed by, only ten vehicles this time. The freeway veered south and rose steeply. When we reached the highest point, we stood and stared down at our destination.

  About a quarter of a mile away, a huge mass of people stood loosely lined up, headed for one of the sixteen heavily guarded booths. There had to be thousands of people. If any of the lines were moving, it was hard to tell. Most of the groups had blankets. Some even had tents. All were busy packing their campsites. It looked like they’d spent the night in line.

  “Well. We made it,” Nick said.

  “What’s that area?” I pointed to the south. Large circus style tents, some school portables, and regular camping tents were scattered around an enormous fenced area. Clothes hung on lines from one tent to another. Sailors with rifles on their backs walked back and forth along the fence line.

  “That looks like what they were building in Santa Barbara. A government settlement camp.” Takumi took his pack off and sat it on the ground. “Are we just going to wing it, and hope everything turns out okay? Or are we going to go down there with a plan and maybe even have a meeting place in case we get separated?”

  Nick and I looked at each other.

  “What do you suggest?” My eyebrows furrowed.

  “I kinda like having a plan.” A slow grin softened Takumi’s face. “Meeting places are cool too.”

  Nick and I relaxed, swung our packs off, and sat on them.

  “Fine. Let’s make a plan. I think we should stash our spears someplace where we can find them when we head back to Whistler, get in the shortest line, and work our way to the front,” I said.

  “Sounds good to me.” Nick nodded.

  “And a meeting place?” Takumi looked worried.

  “Since we don’t know where anything is down there, if we get separated, we should head back to the boat. Dylan is going to anchor near the mouth of the Tijuana River. The river should be easy to follow.” I stood.

  “Is that enough of a plan?” Nick asked Takumi.

  Takumi picked up his pack. “For now. We’re almost out of water. One of us is going to have to get out of line to find some.”

  “The military should provide water,” I said.

  “Yeah. I saw how well that worked for the people in Santa Barbara. No matter what, we do not want to end up in that camp.” Takumi gestured at the tent city.

  “Okay.” I adjusted my pack and headed for a blue Volkswagen Beetle that was on the side of the road. The car door was open. We tossed in our spears and closed the door. The windows were so muddy, no one could see in.

  Nick led us down the off ramp. Takumi and I hung back a little.

  “Are we good?” I asked him.

  He took my hand. “We’re good. But I still can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

  “I know you think we could have talked our way out of Walter’s camp. But there were too many of them. And they were pointing their weapons at us. What could we have said?”

  “We could have given them our food. That’s all they wanted.”

  “But then we wouldn’t have had any.”

  “We didn’t eat dinner anyway. We could have gone a day or so without food. We’ve had it pretty easy on the boat.”

  I pulled my hand back. “Easy? The tsunamis? Cole dying? You think that was easy?”

  “Losing Cole was terrible. But we’ve had shelter. We’ve stayed mostly away from sicknesses. We’ve had water and have never run out of food. I bet most of the people down there haven’t eaten a thing for days.”

  I shook my head.

  He held out his hand. “Maybe we should just agree to disagree, okay? I don’t want to fight.”

  I shoved my hand in my pocket. “I don’t want to fight either. But I will if someone tries to hurt one of my people or take my things.”

  “Okay. I get it. And the people part, I totally agree with.”

  Before I could respond, Nick started pointing at something up ahead.

  “What?” Takumi followed Nick’s gaze.

  “A water truck… People are getting out of line and running to it with their bottles and stuff. We need to get down before they run out.” Nick started running.

  Takumi and I took off after him.

  The tanker truck was about two hundred feet away. We sprinted past the end of the wait lines toward the water truck. Without warning, four large men with their arms folded stepped out from their various places in line and blocked our way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Takumi shoved me behind him. I jammed my shoulder into his and forced my way up between him and Nick.

  An old man with a long gray ponytail gestured at the. “The water is just for people waiting in line, not townies.”

  “Takumi,” I whispered.

  Takumi cleared his throat. “We’re not townies. We’re travelers, headed for the border. We’ll get in line as soon as we fill our water bottles.”

  “That so?” The gray ponytail guy got right into Takumi’s face. “You get in line first. Spend a few days on this concrete and earn your water.”

  Everyone around us had stopped what they were doing and stared at us. One of the other men in the group blocking our way looked up at the clouds. “It might rain soon. You can catch a few drops.”

  The others laughed.

  I could feel Takumi’s anger boiling to the surface. I grabbed his arm and then Nick’s. “Come on. Let’s get in line.”

  We crossed over to a spot that seemed a little shorter and was far from the men who’d blocked us.

  We dropped our packs and sat on them. “Maybe the water truck will make it down this far?” Nick said.

  Just then a man with two kids joined the woman standing near the tent in front of us. The man was carrying a large pot. The kids had four water bottles. They handed off the bottles to the woman. “This is all we could get. The truck ran out,” the man told the woman.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the couple.

  The man dropped the bucket, pulled out a knife, and pointed it at me.

  I raised my hands in the air. “We just got here. I want to know how often the water truck comes.”

  “We’ve been here two days. This is the first water truck we’ve seen. A doctor sets up a clinic once a week if you’re sick.” He stared at me, and then at the red marks on Takumi’s face.

  “We’re not sick,” I assured him. “What about food? Do they bring out food too?”

  “You have to get a permit and enter the camp before they give you food,” the man said and lowered his spear.

  “The permit is for entry to the camp? We thought these lines were for people who wanted to cross the border.”

  He shook his head. “To cross the border, you have to apply for a visa from inside the camp. You have to get into the camp first. And the camp is overflowing. They only let a few in every day.”

  A little boy who must have been his son ran to him and tugged on his pant leg. The man leaned down and spoke softly to him. Tears rolled down the boy’s face and he curled up on a pile of sleeping bags.

  Our line neighbor watched his son for a moment, then turned back to us. “We heard that the U.S. is looking for people to work on the northern domes. I’m an architect, or at least I used to be. I hoped to get a government job and go north. My wife’s a teacher. She thought she could teach at the camp and stay here with the kids. But we can’t wait in line much longer. We ran out of food yesterday.” He held up his water bottle. “But at least now we have water.”

  Was that little boy in tears because he was hungry? I looked at Takumi.

  “Sir,” Takumi said.

  The man smiled. “God. You make me feel old. No one has ever called me Sir. My name is Peter.”

  “I’m Takumi. This is Toni and Nick.” Takumi and the man shook hands. “Would you be interested in a little trade?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of trade?”

  Takumi looked around to see if anyone around us was listening. People were still gathering up their gear in hopes that their line would move. “We’re out of water, but we have food. We could trade food for three bottles of water. We have our own bottles.”

  The man glanced at the people near us in line. He motioned to his wife, Tiffany, who was rolling up the last sleeping bag. She raised her head.

  “We need to talk,” Peter said.

  Tiffany nodded, then spoke in a loud voice. “Let’s leave the tent up. The line won’t be moving for a while, and it looks like rain.”

  Peter opened the tent flap. “If you have food, you shouldn’t advertise it around here. Bring your packs inside, and we’ll deal in there.”

  I shook my head. “Only one pack goes in. Nick stays out here and guards the other bags.”

  “Tiffany, check out what they have and let me know what you think it’s worth,” Peter said.

  Tiffany entered first. “Sit down.” She motioned for us to join her. “So, what do you have?”

  I sat cross-legged. Takumi opened his pack and pulled out samples of our food.

  Tiffany’s face scrunched in confusion. “What’s in that?” She pointed at one of the stuffed baggies Takumi laid on the tent floor.

  Takumi grinned. “We spent a week on an island. There were grapes, lots of fish, and seaweed. We dried as much as we could.”

  “The mixture takes a little getting used to, but it’s actually very tasty,” I told her.

  “Can I try it?” She asked.

  Takumi handed her the baggie. She sniffed, made a face, and then handed it back to Takumi. “You go first.”

  Takumi took a pinch of the mixture and popped it into his mouth.

  “You too,” she told me.

  Takumi told Tiffany about all the nutrients in seaweed. I told her how I hated the taste at first, but now I really liked it. The seaweed was salty and the dried grapes were sweet. Good together.

  Tiffany made another face when she sampled some. Then we brought out our smoked snake pieces. When we told her what it was, she almost gagged.

  “I need my husband to see this stuff. Peter, come here for a second,” she said.

  Tiffany left to watch the kids and Peter joined us. When we showed Peter our food, his eyes lit up. “You guys have really embraced living off the land!” He examined the bag of snake. “Does it taste like chicken?”

  We laughed and told him to see for himself.

  “It does,” he opened the flap and handed the bag to Tiffany. She peeked in and he made her try some. “Tastes just like smoked chicken,” he told her.

  Tiffany wasn’t so sure, but said it wasn’t too terrible.

  “We’ll give you two bottles of water for four baggies of your seaweed mixture and one bag of snake,” Peter said.

  Takumi negotiated for us. In the end, we got our three bottles of water and gave them half of our food. Maybe not the best deal, but neither Takumi nor I could let the children go hungry.

  When negotiations were completed we left the tent and joined Nick. He’d been playing a game of “which hand is the rock in” with their kids.

  We sat on our packs and settled in to wait for the line to move.

  Peter and Tiffany brought the kids inside the tent and fed them. I expected to hear the kids complain, but they were too hungry.

  Later, Peter joined us and asked questions. He wanted to know all about the island we’d stayed on. We told him what we knew, and then about the boats in the marina. Most were damaged and the bay was polluted, but we thought he might find one boat he could fix up. For sure he could find a couple of kayaks.

  Peter said he knew how dangerous kayaking on the ocean was. We told him the worst part was that there was water on the island, but it was not easy to find. We didn’t mention the death we’d found on a beach on Santa Cruz.

  Five weary groups of people lined up behind us as the day wore on. A few nodded or said hi. The line in front of us never moved.

  Takumi grew worried. “This can’t go on for much longer. These people are dying.”

  “I’m going to search for my parents. They’re probably in one of these lines to nowhere too.” I stood and faced the front of the line.

  Takumi passed our packs to Nick. “I’m coming with you.”

  Nick stacked the bags in a pile. “Fine. I’m going to take a nap and get ready for the late-night watch.”

  I kissed his cheek and Takumi and I set out.

  We walked almost half-way to the front of the line before anyone tried to stop us. I guess because we didn’t have any gear, we didn’t look like cheaters. “I’m trying to find my parents,” I said again and again to those who looked upset that we were passing by.

  The closer to the front, the thinner and weaker the people looked. If I’d had my pack, I know I would have given all our food away. I was shocked that someone wasn’t doing anything to help them.

  Another convoy of jeeps and military forced us out of the way. The men and women in uniform looked well fed, and some of the crowd shouted insults at them.

  And then I was at the front of the line. Directly ahead was a small structure that looked like a toll booth. I strolled up to it. A young woman was inside, dressed in military gear with a rifle strapped to her shoulder.

  “Get back,” she yelled and pointed her rifle at me.

  Two sailors ran over to her.

  “Is there a problem here?” one of the men asked.

  The woman gestured at the faded yellow line on the concrete. “She just crossed the line.”

  “I didn’t even know there was a line!” I shook my head.

  “Get back. Now!” The sailor screamed and raised his rifle.

  I took a step back. “You have to help these people. They’re dying out here. If there is no chance they’ll get into the camp, tell them.”

  “Go back to your place in line and stay there. Do you hear me?” the sailor yelled.

  Takumi took my hand and pulled me away. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I glared at the sailors as Takumi led me. We passed hundreds of people. There was no way to be sure if my parents were there or not. I kept trying my cell phone, but they never answered. I finally powered off my phone to save what little power was left, and kept searching.

  When we made it back to Nick, he was sound asleep. Tiffany and her family had gone into their tent for the evening. We could hear them arguing. Peter was eager to try to find the island. Tiffany wanted to stay in line for a couple more days. I felt bad for them, and for the families starving and dying of thirst, as they waited for help that might not come.