Amber inhales deeply as she clings to Harold’s arm, the harsh glare of the spotlights triggering every run and hide instinct she was born with. Her knuckles drain of color, returning to their typical white hue. For a moment, she worries her nails will break his skin. When that moment passes, she resumes worrying about everything else.
“This is a terrible idea.”
The pain in his arm is a minor nuisance Harold is all too happy to ignore. A, Amber was worth the pain and B, they were about to do something no one in his world would ever believe he’d done. It’s not every day you get to see a space ship. Shante clutches his father’s ID tightly, then passes it to Harold.
“These men work for my father, be calm and we’ll be fine. On my mark, move.”
Shante emerged from the shadows and approached the nearest guard. “I demand to see my father immediately.”
Harold and Amber creep towards the chain-link fence, aiming for the hastily constructed tent.
With the possible exception of the equator, everything begins somewhere.