Chapter 39: Shadows of the Past

Afternoon arrives, the sun beating down on the camper's metal roof. The heat inside grows stifling. Restless, I step outside for air, scanning the horizon for any suspicious vehicles. The landscape is empty farmland, just rolling fields and lonely roads.

Elena emerges, wiping sweat from her brow. "No word yet," she mutters, frustration cracking her composure. "What if he never replies?"

A fresh wave of despair hits me. We can't keep drifting aimlessly; Vasquez's resources are vast. As if on cue, my phone dings with an incoming text. Coordinates. 10 PM. Don't be late. No signature.

Elena's face pales. "Coordinates? For what?"

I type them into a map. It's a location near a remote airstrip miles away. My pulse jolts. Is this from your contact or from Vasquez? We're not sure. A trap or salvation? The question gnaws at us. With no other leads, we might have to gamble everything.