Free Die Run Hide by P. M. Kavanaugh

Boris gave the voice command for drive and they pulled out.
    Only when the darkness swallowed up the buildings and parking lot did the muscles in Anika’s neck unwind. She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes, hoping to avoid conversation. The fewer lies told, the fewer to remember.
    “What’s wrong with your papa?” Boris asked.
    “Heart.” Anika yawned and kept her eyes shut.
    “What happened?”
    She opened her eyes. Clearly, Boris wanted to talk. “He’ll be okay. He’s strong. Like you.” Boris smiled. “How long have you been driving a truck?”
    “All my life. First in Ukraine. Now here.”
    “You like it?”
    As long as she controlled the questions, she controlled the conversation.
    “It pays the bills.” Boris shrugged one shoulder. “We’re getting a new kitchen. My wife wants everything new, everything modern. My daughter, too.”
    Anika watched the stream of headlights from the trucks behind them. No sudden swerves. No one racing up on either side, then slowing down to box them in.
    “How old is your daughter?”
    “Eight next week. Her birthday is Wednesday. I promised I am home by then.”
    “I hope you can make it. Promises matter, especially between fathers and daughters.”
    Not that Anika knew that from experience. As a federal, she hadn’t been given any information about where she came from, who she came from. She had never been given a promise by her father. But she could imagine what it would be like, how much it would matter.
    “She wants an airboard. My Katerina.” He rolled his eyes. “She wants latest model. Triple speed, built-in glow lights, colored exhaust. ‘In purple, Papa!’ she told me.”
    “She sounds sweet,” Anika said.
    “ Da .” Boris nodded and his lips curved in a smile. “I mean, yes. She’s a good girl. Listens to her momma. Loves her papa. My little princess . ”
    Yeah, a good family man. Just like Gianni would be.
    Her heart stuttered and she caught her breath. If U.N.I.T. ever discovered Gianni had helped her, he would lose his promotion, his chance to have a family. For now. Maybe forever.
    Boris told another story about his daughter and a school contest she had won.
    I was good in school. Especially good at the games reserved for federal orphans. The ones that revealed operative potential.
    Anika rested her head back. The cab had grown warm and lavender auto-scent infused the air. Boris’s words started to run together. She tried to stay awake, but soon her eyelids drooped.
    • • •
    She awoke with a start. The truck was parked on a narrow road that paralleled the freeway. Boris was nowhere to be seen. She checked the time on the truck’s navigation monitor and did a quick calculation. She had been asleep two hours. That meant they were probably just past Indianapolis.
    She placed her hand against her side, feeling for the reassuring edges of the gun.
    A tuneless whistle broke the silence. A broad squat figure, holding a fluorescent glow stick, tramped through the growth of scrubby bushes toward the truck. The other hand held something white, with a bright orange tip. Smoke streamed from the man’s mouth.
    Anika eased out a breath.
    “Ah, you’re awake now.” Boris settled back in his seat. “Good. I have other funny story to tell.”
    “Where did you go?” Anika checked the side and rear mirrors. The night was still, quiet. “I thought something had happened.”
    “Forgot to use bathroom at diner. Too much excitement.” Boris took a drag from the cigarette and blew rings out through his open window. The hazy circles were almost as good as the ones she used to make during her smoking years at the orphanage.
    “I know what you mean. Do you mind if I … .” She nodded her head in the direction he had come.
    “You go. I finish cigarette.” Boris took a long slow inhale and a luxurious exhale. “When you get back, I tell story.”
    “Great.” Anika stretched her lips into a thin smile.
    “Here. Take this.” He