My New Stepbrother

30

Blake

I kicked as hard as I could getting back up to the surface. I don't even know how I'm still alive, but I'm alive and that's all that matters.

I swim, with all the strength I have left in me, until I find a spot that connects the water with dry land. I exhale a sigh of relief, then swim all the way there, trying to avoid getting anymore water in my mouth and nose.

When I finally reach the land, I watch for hours as helicopters and police cars come through the area, even boats come to search for me. They didn't find me luckily. I hid behind a tree, each time I got even an inkling that someone was getting close to me.

Eventually it was bright outside, and everyone was gone. I took this as my opportunity to get back up—and find my way out of the camping grounds.

I searched for hours before I finally managed to get back to the original spot that Angel and I were camping in. As expected, most of our things were gone and confiscated. I would've been upset that I lost all of my money, if I hadn't taken it out the truck and hidden it before hand.

I went to the exact spot I remember putting it in, and then, I saw the little tip of my duffel bag peeking out of the not so hidden hole. The police officers apparently didn't do that good of a search.

"Yes!" I whispered, finally I was catching a break. I still had a majority of my money.

I grabbed the bag from the hole, and made my way down the mountain. I was tired, hungry and thirsty, but I knew I had to keep going or else I'd probably be captured and turned in where I'd spend the rest of my life in prison.

I walked aimlessly for miles, my clothes were tattered and ripped, and my hair was probably a mess. I didn't know what to do or where to go. I was a fugitive now, who hopefully everybody thought was dead. But what could a dead fugitive do to survive?!

I couldn't show my face, I couldn't spend any money anywhere—hell even my fake name was probably of no use to me now. My car was gone, and there was absolutely nowhere I could go.

But then an idea came to me.

I waited until I saw the most, beat up, used looking car and stuck out my thumb. I was on the side of the road, and doubted they would even stop—but luckily they did. There was a small looking woman driving the vehicle with gray hair, thick glasses, and small eyes. The wrinkles on her face showed her age, but the way she held onto her purse that was sitting in the passenger seat let me know that she was not about any games.

"Hello ma'am." I said, once she rolled down her window.

"Are you a killer?!" She asked me, and at first I thought she was kidding, but she was extremely serious.

I wished that I could honestly say no, but I couldn't. Even still, I put on my biggest smile and said, "No ma'am of course not. It's just, I was camping with my friends a few miles back, and they thought it would be funny to leave me out there with nothing but my bag of clothes." I said, patting my duffel bag that I had slung around my shoulder.

"Oh you poor thing. Do you need a ride somewhere?" She asked.

"Actually yes." I said.

"Okay! Get in." She replied, while moving her purse to the back seat.

"So." She said once I was inside. "Where to?"