In the captivating novel "Departure," immerse yourself in a world turned upside down, where a courageous woman embarks on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth behind the enigmatic group that has seized control of an entire na
Joy, an ordinary citizen, finds herself thrust into a dystopian reality where darkness looms over every corner of society. With the country under the iron grip of an elusive organization known only as "Guidestone," she dares to challenge their authority and embark on a quest for liberation. Armed with determination and a relentless spirit, she delves into the heart of the conspiracy, risking everything for the truth.
Haunted by the memories her once-free life, Joy connects with a group of like-minded women. Together, they navigate a treacherous landscape, where trust is scarce and danger lurks at every turn. As their numbers grow, so does the hope of reclaiming their homeland from the clutches of Guidestone.
Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, Joy discovers her own inner strength and resilience. But as the stakes rise, so does the danger, and Joy must confront her own fears and confront the ultimate truth behind Guidestone’s power.
Across from Joy, yet another train slid into the station, sending tremors through the gravel pile she perched on, reverberating through her naked legs. The matte black exterior of the train car across from her towered over the crowd huddled beneath it, dwarfing them in its shadow. Humidity beaded against Joy's skin from head to toe, attracting every particle of grime in the process. When the guards captured her earlier that morning, she was wearing pajamas, and it did not occur to Joy to demand pants as she was being detained. It seemed too late to start making any demands now, not when the train was literally about to leave the station. Modesty wasn't the issue. It was just that she never imagined greeting the end of the world in a pair of ratty, coffee-stained boxer shorts.
End of the world isn't exactly right, she thought. Maybe just the end of the US. Hard to say if there was anyone else left out there at this point. Before she finally fled her studio apartment in the city just a few weeks earlier, the news that Washington had been taken in a coup stunned everyone. The capitol, so recognizable with its gleaming white dome, was reduced to ash in an intentional blaze, just as so much of the U.S. heartland was.
The thought of all that devastation seized her attention for a fleeting moment before it was pulled back to the guards milling about in their generic gray uniforms. Some barked orders at the stunned captives while others tried to play nice with their prisoners in the hope it would get them better results. Most of the guards were just teenagers, it seemed to Joy. They marched around with the exaggerated swagger of almost-adult boys who think they have more grit than they actually possess. She knew far too many men who masqueraded around like that, hiding behind a bravado that had never actually been put to the test. Had any prisoner dared to make eye contact with the child guards, they would have seen the terror behind their captors' eyes.
At any moment, Joy knew one of the soldiers was bound to notice their overlooked prisoner. Until that happened, there was time to cobble together an escape plan of some sort. The rest of the world might have been burned to the ground, but then again, it might not. The only way for her to know for sure was to get the hell out before the last train pulled away. Willing herself still, she tried her best to disappear into the very ground around her. It was what she did best, really: watching, deliberating, picking the best moment to act. Earlier she pushed down her initial instinct to fight back during her pajama-clad capture. Even as the guards grabbed her arms and began to hustle her away, she calmed herself with the thought that only by understanding what was happening could she figure out how she would live to see another day.
A shadow suddenly blocked out the burning midday sun. "Here," came a voice from behind the black mass obscuring her vision. "Take it." Thin arms roughly shoved a bundle into her chest. Before she could even open her mouth to object, the giver of the unexpected gift retreated. They left behind a cloud of blankets encircling a plump baby. A crown of curls peeked out from beneath the folds of the filthy blanket, capping a face composed mainly of cheeks.
The baby snored softly, utterly undisturbed by all the fuss. Its round brown face was pristine and gleaming as if fresh from a bath. Leave it to a baby to ignore a regime change, blissfully unaware that the balance of power in the country—maybe the globe—dramatically shifted overnight. What was Joy going to do with a baby? She had no choice but to get them both out, then find someone much more qualified than her to take it.
Escaping was an even bigger challenge now. How long could she elude the guard's attention with this unwanted human baggage? Sure, the baby was quiet now but could erupt into wails at any moment. She faced hurdles making a hasty exit before, Joy reminded herself. Focus on what you can control. If she didn't keep her mind on the facts and not the sheer absurdity of her current situation, Joy feared panic would take over completely. It was barely at bay now, that sour stew of fear threatening to move up her throat and shut her down completely.
Time was Joy's biggest enemy. All around the rail yard, guards worked to maintain the orderly queues of frightened captives as the sleek onyx trains pulled in and out of the station. They evoked distant memories of past atrocities as the doors slid open and people were prodded inside. The guards were proficient in their plans, but there was just the slightest hint of disorder at the fringes. A sense that something was not quite right, was not unfolding quite as planned, shown through the tense exchanges between guards.
It wouldn't be long now before the crowd thinned enough that they would notice Joy and the baby. Backward was not an option for escape. Joy saw the razor wire–capped fences as the guards jostled her into the yard. Even if she thought she could scale that fence without drawing attention, there was zero chance she could navigate barbed wire with a baby in hand. Slipping beneath one of the cars across from her might provide an exit, but without knowing what waited on the other side, Joy wasn't sure the risk was worth it. Even if she made it without a guard seeing her, there was no way she could avoid the gaze of one of the dozens of people waiting to be forced onto a train.
Joy's plotting was interrupted by something moving toward her quickly from the left. Before she could react, two guards arrived, dragging a man between them. His head hung slack as they pulled him toward Joy, his bare feet cutting thick tracks in the gravel behind him.
"Take these, too," the guard half whispered, whipping a towheaded child from behind him. She stumbled into Joy's lap unflinching, accompanied by the heap of man Joy now feared was dead.
"What am I supposed to do with them?" Joy hissed before she could stop herself. Instinctively she readied herself to accept the blow she thought the guard would surely distribute for her backtalk.
"Keep them and yourself alive," he said, his voice softened now. For a beat, he held Joy's gaze, his gaunt face a mask of exhaustion. Slowly he turned on the heels of his stiff new combat boots before picking up the pace and disappearing back into the mass of people.
The little girl clutched the man's limp hand, unwilling to move even an inch away from him. Her blond hair hung in matted strands. The man didn't show any reaction to the hard drop he sustained. Joy held her breath, stilling herself as she focused on his chest, satisfied finally that it was moving up and down.
"Hi, kiddo," Joy whispered. When had she ever used that word before? Never that she could recall. "Where's your mom?"
Before the girl could answer, the guard returned, shadowed by a monster of a man. The giant's stare locked onto Joy, and she unconsciously clutched the baby tighter to her chest. Time's up, she thought.
"Sweetheart, come here," Joy said firmly. She didn't want to scare the girl off, but she needed her to listen if they were going to survive whatever came next. From what she could see, the guards were holding off on any violence with children around. Like it or not, this sudden partnership might be Joy's only way of making it out of the train station in one piece.
"Here," the guard said, stopping a few feet short of where Joy sat. He pointed at them roughly with the tip of his rifle but refused to make eye contact. "They belong with the other families but—"
"But you couldn't make her move her ass? How is that my issue? Get them moved, now," growled the larger man. His face bore the scars of an epic battle with acne; bumpy red reminders of a painful past.
"Yes, sir!" The smaller guard was nearly knocked down by a shift shoulder check as the man brushed past. "You heard him! Get up!" The guard turned his anger on Joy, yanking the girl out of her grasp.
"Okay, okay!" Quickly, she was on her feet, reeling to catch up with the sudden change of attitude. Joy balanced the baby on one hip as she held the other arm out toward him in a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation. "Just tell me what to do here," she pleaded. "You put all of this on me!"
"Pick him up." The guard gestured toward the man slumped over in the gravel. Sweat beaded up between his sprouts of closely cropped hair, threatening to spill over into his squinty eyes. It made the guard seem much less of a threat.
"Just how am I supposed to do that with this baby?"
"Give it to the girl." He dropped the kid's hand. "Just get moving before he comes back."
"Sweetie," Joy said as she bent down to meet the girl face to face. "What's your name?"
"Aubrey," she replied, shifting on her tiny feet.
"Hi Aubrey, my name is Joy. Do you know what your dad's name is?"
"Daddy."
Joy wanted to kick herself for asking. The poor thing was probably traumatized from everything she had experienced recently.
"Right." Joy sighed as the guard's anger became palpable, igniting the air between them again. "Aubrey, I need to help your dad. Do you think you can help me by holding the baby?" Joy pulled a flap of the blanket back to reveal the still snoozing child. Aubrey's dull blue eyes grew wide at the sight of the baby. Slowly she nodded, sticking her arms out to receive the baby.
"Great, good job," Joy assured her as she snuggled the baby into the crook of the girl's arm.
Turning now to the man at her feet, Joy didn't have a clue how to go about picking him up, let alone moving him to the other side of the yard where all the families were waiting to board the train. The guard made it clear he would not be of any help. She had no choice but to jump in and fail trying. The crowd was curious, casting glances in her direction, but none of them moved to help her handle 200 pounds of dead weight.
"Aubrey, stick with me," she said as she bent and turned the man over. His hair was blonde with just the slightest hint of gray at the temples. A crusty gash over his right eye helped to explain this unconscious state. Gingerly at first, Joy slid her arms under his, pulling him to a slumped sitting position before taking a deep breath as she summoned all her strength to pull him forward.
The strain of his entire weight almost brought Joy to her knees. Stumbling as the guard breathed down her neck, she duck-walked backward as she heaved his body along with her, inch by agonizing inch. Aubrey moved slowly after them, the baby still unmoving in her arms. Behind them, eyebrows rose, and glances were thrown between onlookers, but no one moved. Joy hardly covered a quarter of the distance before her thighs began to shake in protest, threatening to give out at any second.
"Move it," the guard growled. "It's only fifteen more feet. You can make it," he added quietly so that only Joy could hear.
Fifteen feet might as well be five miles, Joy thought. Just taking one more step felt impossible. Her muscles screamed from the sudden reawakening. Keeping up her workout routine wasn't a priority the past few weeks as she tried to stay one step ahead of the fires. Just as her knees began to buckle, an arm wound its way around Joy's waist, helping to steady her again.
"You are not going to make it," the mousy young woman who appeared at Joy's side said flatly. Though compact, the women's lithe frame was much stronger than it seemed, as Joy quickly realized. "You should get some pants."
"Thank you," Joy breathed in relief.
Together they each took one arm and heaved the man forward. The woman pulled so hard Joy worried his shoulder might pop out of the socket, but given the circumstances, she'd risk the injury rather than tell her to be more careful. After a few clumsy steps, their backs finally collided with the hot exterior of the train car. Dropping the man to their side, the two women collapsed in a plume of dust.
Following suit, Aubrey plopped down next to them. Joy hardly noticed her presence until the other woman began talking again. "Adoption has never appealed to me," she stated. Joy didn't consider that people would question her relation to the children or how to explain it, for that matter.
"The risk of any number of unknown diseases or worse—mental health issues," she continued. "I guess it is not really adoption if you are simply taking on the child of your spouse. At least then, you might know in advance the risks of psychosis or cancer."
She brought up a valid point, Joy realized, pointing out the obvious things people were likely to ask about this unlikely quintet. She couldn't trade long on the idea of them being a family once she was boxed up on the train with strangers. Not without a plausible explanation. If at least one person assumed they were married and a family, that bode well for her. Thought it would only work as long as the man was unconscious and unable to tell the truth. How would she refer to him when asked, just as her husband? Joy couldn’t risk making up a name and having to explain it when he woke up. If he woke up.
And what about the baby? She didn't even know how to guess its age. She'd never been very good at that sort of thing, or anything related to children, really. Gender she could figure out easily enough, but now was hardly an appropriate time to unfurl the blankets and peek inside the diaper.
"That was rude. My sister, Margaret, tells me to stop and consider my comments before I speak because people do not always appreciate them." The woman's face remained flat, but her hazel eyes betrayed that she did not, in fact, think she owed anyone an explanation for speaking her mind.
"That's okay, I— Oh—" Joy watched as her helper quickly stood up and faded into the crush of people before she could finish her response. Just as well, she thought. Chasing after the young woman wasn't a task she had the energy for. Her departure gave Joy a chance to turn her attention to the stranger lying on the ground next to her. He was breathing but otherwise devoid of any outward signs of life. Surely the guard would not have stuck her with a dying man, would he? It made about as much sense as the rest of the day so far—which was absolutely none.
"He's heavy," Aubrey whispered, pushing the baby toward Joy's lap.
"Sorry." He? Joy wasn't sure Aubrey's suggestion that the baby was a boy was the most reliable thing, but it was good enough for now. She pulled the baby into her arms and breathed in deeply, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes for the first time since she woke up that morning. Just keep breathing, she reminded herself, slow things down. She would only get in her own way and bungle everything if she moved too fast and didn't consider all the factors. Slowly her breathing found a regular rhythm again, thanks to the inhale and exhale of the baby sleeping in her arms, offering her a guide. With each breath, the adrenaline coursing through her throttled back a notch.
When she opened her eyes again, it was quiet. The yard around her emptied. It was enough to bring her blood pressure right back up. Had she died? Was that it? It must be, she thought. She somehow died in that yard, and now she was stuck in some sort of awful purgatory. Or maybe it had been purgatory all along. Maybe she never made it out of the house at all that morning. Could it be that she was still there, stuck in an awful dream she couldn't wake herself from?
"You are losing it, Joy," she whispered before squeezing her eyes shut again.
"Here," a voice called, snapping her back to attention. The guard appeared for a third visit, this time trailed by two men who were waiting with the other captives just minutes earlier. "Get him on board," he said with a gesture of his rifle.
"Wishful thinking, I guess," Joy said quietly, now surer than ever that there was no escape from the hell unfolding in real time around her.
"What did you say?" the guard barked.
"Nothing, nothing," Joy said as she stood and hoisted the baby to her right side while taking Aubrey's limp hand in her left. The duo gingerly lifted the unconscious man, hoisting his arms over their shoulders as they set out for the open train door. Even as they carefully tried to navigate with the man trailing behind them, his poor feet once again took the brunt of the dragging. As they made their way inside, his shins smacked against the sharp metal steps, though he showed no reaction to what must have been very painful, a sign Joy didn't like at all.
She hesitated as her foot connected with the first step. Aubrey, moving in tandem beside her, stopped as well. The entrance in front of them was cloaked in inky shadows. It was impossible to make out what was even a few feet inside the train, let alone waiting for them deeper inside. The guards disappeared into the black void just beyond the entrance. There was no one there to stop her from laying down the baby, dropping Aubrey's hand, and making a run for it. They weren't her problem—these children or that man. Just go, every part of her begged.
Joy wanted to do it, wished with every fiber of her being she was hardened enough to abandon them and flee. Instead, she pulled the baby closer to her chest and stepped forward into the darkness, guiding Aubrey inside with her.