your secrets keep you sick

She had to admit to herself, it was a ballsy move to steal a car in broad daylight right from someone's driveway. But dammit, these people were practically asking for it. In their small town comfort, they were in the habit of leaving their doors unlocked, their cars unlocked, and – as she flipped down the visor – their keys in the unlocked car. She squealed with delight at her small bout of luck and snatched the keys from their hiding place.

I guess it's no hotwiring for me today. Sorry, Shawn, Beth thought as she slid the key into the ignition and started the engine. The car quietly came to life and showed that it needed an oil change, but the gas tank was over half-full.

Giddy with anticipation and the small fear of getting caught at any moment, she hurriedly adjusted her mirrors and clicked on her seatbelt, then put the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway of the small house that sat just outside Woolsey, on the side opposite of where she'd nearly entered town. She had veered through the woods around the tiny town, but came back closer to the road once she'd passed city limits and any signs of civilization. She had planned to continue walking under cover of the trees, but when she saw a small house sitting all by itself with no neighbors for miles, she couldn't stop herself. The curiosity grabbed her, and she had ended up approaching the house with caution. She checked every window for any sign of life and when it all seemed quiet, she checked a door just to be safe. It had been unlocked and she pushed it open to look around inside. But the house was deserted, or at least it was for the day. She was confident in her plan of turning around and running as far away as she could if anyone suddenly showed up. She'd even dared to call out into the emptiness with a timid, "Hello…?" But only silence answered her.

When she was satisfied that no one would emerge from the house to stop her, she ran to the only car in the driveway, parked close to the garage and covered with a layer of dust and pollen. It was a beat-up, 90s Honda Civic, and probably had a vivid coat of red paint at one time in its life. But now it was chipped and dirty and carried dents in multiple places. However, all the lights seemed to be in place and operational, and the tires had recently been filled with air. Once she was backing it out of the driveway, she was assuming it was a weekend car of sorts that the owner only took out to go fishing or drive around the country, maybe even make quick trips to town and back on the gravel roads. It ran much smoother than it looked.

She pulled out onto the road and sped away from the house, reaching 75 mph before she realized the house had already faded away in her rearview mirror and the speed limit sign posted said 60 mph. She slowed down and then kept the car at a steady speed between 60 and 65. Her heartbeat started racing as it dawned on her that being out on the open road in a vehicle was putting her at a much bigger risk than anything else. She could be pulled over for literally anything and that would be the end of all this. Had she even checked the tags to make sure they weren't expired? And what happened once the owners got home and realized their car was stolen? How long would it be before there was a report and people started looking for this car? And what were the chances that they'd have security cameras posted around their garage, or their property in general?

She shook her head and forced herself to focus on the road. She couldn't be weighed down with what if's right now, no matter how easy it was to sink into her own thoughts today. She was already torturing herself every few minutes as she imagined Maggie and Glenn being held in handcuffs, in separate rooms, continually interrogated and harassed by police. That should be her right now…

Beth tried to concentrate on her directions and figuring out where to go. She knew she'd have to backtrack from here – that's where the car helped in saving a lot of time – and go completely around Atlanta. She didn't even want to get within city limits. Atlanta Police were a whole other story, and they'd be searching everywhere for her. She couldn't risk being arrested so close to the scene of the crime. She was going in the direction she knew would take her back to a small town called Griffin, which she would also circumvent, and then she'd figure out which roads to take from there. Ideally, she'd avoid major highways and any encounters with highway patrol. Of all the police, they'd probably be the ones on the biggest lookout for any sign of her or a getaway car. She'd be willing to bet that they never expected a teenaged girl to be escaping from DEA and SWAT completely on foot.

She drove for fifteen minutes, half an hour, forty-five minutes… She passed familiar signs and landmarks. It took everything in her to stop from turning onto the road that would take her back to Senoia and her family farm when she drove past it.

Never return to the scene of the crime. Never return to the scene of the crime, she silently chanted to herself. But she was still wondering if that cop was alive or not.

It was just so difficult for her to leave everything behind so suddenly. Her entire world had flipped upside-down within just a couple of hours. Every memory she'd ever cherished, every lesson she'd ever learned, everything she'd ever owned or collected… all gone. Either left to collect dust in the crime scene that was the Greene Family Farm, or collected for police evidence.

If she were honest, she'd have to admit that she was the most regretful about leaving behind her songbooks and guitar. She knew it was unrealistic to ever have taken those things with her, but they held special meaning to her. She poured her heart out into those songbooks, spending hours and days on all the music and poems she'd written all by herself. They were everything to her, especially since she hadn't been able to keep a journal anymore.

The memory of a night just a few months before surfaced in her mind, and it only made her ache for her big sister even more.

"I'm sorry, Beth. It's just not safe anymore. If someone got a hold of this, if you somehow lost it, or if the police showed up with a warrant and found this – "

"I know. It just… sucks. But I know."

Beth swallowed the knot in her throat and internally punished herself for acting so emotional over a book. But it was her book. It was all her thoughts, feelings, memories. She'd poured her deepest pains and her biggest triumphs onto these pages. This book had become her best friend for a while, a confidante she could never have in another person. She told it things that she wouldn't even dare tell her sister. And somehow it was always therapeutic, it always made her feel better in a way no one and nothing else ever could.

"Okay. Toss it in."

Her sister's voice sent a painful jolt through her and she forced herself to approach the large, metal bin. The thick and tattered book was held tightly in her hands, but she let it slip out of her fingers and listened to the clang of the metal as it hit the bottom. A tear escaped her eye but she immediately wiped it away before it could roll down her cheek.

Maggie squeezed the bottle of lighter fluid into the metal bin, making sure to douse the bottom. She then tossed it aside and pulled a match from the box in her other hand, lighting it and holding it out for a second as the flame grew on the tip. Beth stared at the glow of the flame and wished, for just a heartbeat, that her family were just another normal farming family. But they weren't. And they never would be again. Somehow she knew that this wouldn't be the last sacrifice she'd have to make for the sake of the people she loved.

Once Maggie had dropped the match into the bin, she stepped back quickly. The sisters watched as the flame jumped up above the rim of the bin, then settled to a medium height and crackled with the fuel of the thick pages that fed it. Beth held back a sob.

She knew it had to happen. It was one of many sacrifices she had to be willing to make. The last few months had shown her that their life was much more dangerous now than it had ever been before. They had to be especially careful and always cautious. Her family had to survive the only way they knew how, and she'd filled her personal journal with countless secrets and incriminating information, making the book into a dangerous weapon waiting to be used against them. She knew Maggie was right. But that didn't make it any easier.

Her sister stepped closer to her and put a hesitant arm around her shoulders in an attempt at comforting her. But Beth pulled away. She wasn't ready to be comforted right now. She just wanted to pour all of her thoughts out onto paper. It was the only thing that made her mind feel less cluttered, less full of nonsense and confusion. But it looked like she'd have to find a new way to cope – and that wouldn't leave a record.

Beth reached signs indicating the distances to Griffin and Macon much sooner than she'd expected. She almost didn't even notice the silence from a lack of radio as she drove. She was too caught up in her own thoughts and plans and meticulously checking her mirrors every few seconds to need a distraction like music. She became wary of which direction she was heading in. There were a lot of roads she could be turning onto, so she double-checked the horizons ahead and behind her and assured herself there was still no one else coming her way. Then she pulled over to the side of the road and slowed the car to a stop, putting it in park. She quickly opened the glovebox and started pulling out items, though there were very few. It mostly consisted of old napkins and receipts. However, hidden beneath the rubbish, was a dusty Georgia state map that was old, but still crisp and – most importantly – accurate. Amazed at her own luck, she unfolded it and held it out before her. Her father had taught her how to read a map, but she hadn't needed to do so in years. It took her a moment to figure out exactly where she was, then she traced the roads and highways in all possible ways to the state line. She eliminated the ways that took her too close to Atlanta or other major cities, then studied the final options and made her choice. She traced the path carefully with her fingers and squinted her eyes at all the specific road names and directions, trying to memorize it… just in case.

When Beth was confident in where she'd be driving for the next few hours, she pulled back out onto the desolate road and continued driving at no higher than the posted speed limit. She grabbed the sunglasses from her black bag and put them on then glanced at her reflection in the visor's mirror. She was shocked at the combination of her new dark, short hair and sunglasses. If someone were looking for her strictly based on the photo going around the news, they'd never give her a second glance. Although she hoped she'd be close to the state line before anyone reported the missing car.

She took every backroad she could find as she passed around Griffin, between Jackson and McDonough, through the numerous tiny towns that could barely be considered actual towns, then around Athens, careful to avoid Highway 85 as it came from Atlanta. She continued on the weaving and winding backroads as they took her around Anderson, sometimes finding gravel or dirt instead of any pavement. She was over halfway to the state line when she noticed the gas gauge on the dashboard was finally nearing the red E. Normally, it would've taken her to South Carolina and then some, but since she'd driven such a tedious route and taken on so many extra miles, the gas was drained. She'd passed a few signs but the towns they designated were too far out of the way. She'd driven past a handful of gas stations in the tiny townships that littered Georgia, and now she was searching for any signs that she may have a chance of coming across another one. She had only just passed by Athens, and within about twenty minutes, a sign came into view that told her she would be reaching a town called Ila in ten miles. She pressed the gas pedal a tiny bit harder and continued down the road, silently praying they would have a gas station and very few people. It was the middle of the day and she needed to get fuel for a stolen vehicle.

The gas light came on just as she entered the city limits of Ila and taunted her the whole while she drove. She knew she still had a little while before it would run dry, but she didn't know where the gas station would be in the town and she hoped it would last her until she could find it.

The town was extremely small, and if Beth had to guess by the amount of businesses, houses, and people that were outdoors, it couldn't have been more than a population of five hundred, if that. The streets were dead, yards were empty, and she passed only a couple of other vehicles on the road. She took one turn left, then another right, then another left a few blocks down. She searched everywhere and finally, her eyes caught the sight of a tall sign peeking over a building that showed gas prices and the name of a small town market that held a fuel center.

Appropriately named, Market On Main was indeed placed right in the heart of Main Street, although it wasn't as busy as one would expect considering the town was so quiet and empty. There were a handful of cars parked in the parking lot, and the fuel center advertised Exxon while the market itself appeared to be a more homely convenience store. Beth pulled in next to a gas pump and saw only one other car at another pump on the other side. She turned off the car and pulled out the keys, then grabbed her bag and opened it to fish out some money.

As she thumbed through the countless bills, she quickly realized they were nothing but hundreds. She searched anxiously for a twenty or even a fifty, but there was nothing that small amongst her father's savings stash. She finally pulled out a hundred and sighed in defeat, stuffing the zipped-up bag back under the passenger seat and leaving the car to head for the entrance of the market. Her sunglasses were on and she kept her head low as she crossed the parking lot, the sun glaring down as if it were trying to expose her to everyone.

There were other people in the market when she entered, but they were in different aisles and there was no line at the counter. The store appeared to be a tiny grocery store with a front end that resembled a convenience store. An older woman with gray hair pulled into a ponytail and a brown shirt with "Market On Main" embroidered on the chest was standing next to the cash register filling a display of new lighters. She looked up as the door dinged to announce Beth's arrival and smiled in her direction, straightening her back and setting her project aside as the young girl in sunglasses approached the counter.

"Can I get fifty on pump two?" Beth asked quietly, holding out the hundred-dollar bill with a polite smile.

"Sure thing, honey," the woman smiled back and pressed a few buttons on the register, then reached out to take the money. But she grimaced when she saw the bill and shook her head, retracting her hand. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but we don't accept anythin' larger than a fifty."

Beth's heart dropped, as did her smile. "You've gotta be kiddin' me." She realized that sounded rude and quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I just – it's all I have on me."

"Oh, here, I could break that for ya," a man's voice piped up from a few feet behind her.

She spun around to see a young, blond man – a police officer - fully clad in a uniform that read "Ila Police Department," reaching into his back pocket and extracting his wallet, opening it and pulling out four twenty-dollar bills.

Her heart had nearly stopped at this point and her stomach was in the bottom of her feet. She had to consciously stop her hands from shaking as she smiled politely and handed the hundred-dollar bill over in his direction, carefully plucking the twenties from his hand and trying her hardest not to make any skin contact with him.

"Wow, thank you so much," she said, internally praying that her voice wasn't shaking. She was seconds away from cold sweat forming on her forehead.

"No problem. Must be from outta town," the cop, who was holding a plastic-wrapped sub sandwich and a bag of Doritos, replied to her, stuffing the bill she'd just handed him into his wallet while juggling his items in his arms. His shiny, silver name badge read J. Blake.

"Yep, just passin' through," she commented as casually as she could manage, turning around to hand the cashier three of the bills she'd just received.

He had only looked her directly in the face for a second and then had been too busy fumbling with his wallet to look at her again. She hoped he hadn't caught a glimpse of her full face, and that her sunglasses were especially dark over her recognizable eyes.

"Glad you could stop in our little town. It's not much but it's our little slice o' heaven," Officer Blake chuckled, and the woman behind the counter quietly laughed at his little joke as she counted out the change for Beth, who held her hand out and accepted the money as quickly as she could.

"Alright, there's yer change, darlin'," the cashier said sweetly, giving another large smile. "You have a nice day, and drive safe."

If you only knew, Beth thought to herself, but smiled and said aloud, "Thanks. You, too."

She stuffed the money into her pocket and turned to leave, heading straight for the doors with her head still bowed a bit. She hadn't looked up to see if there were any cameras and didn't want to risk it now. Facial recognition would probably end up being the downfall of her if she gave in to curiosity.

But she didn't make it all the way to the doors before she glanced sideways and spotted a refrigerated display just feet away from the entrance, against the wall. It held shelves of sandwiches in all varieties, as well as bottled juices, microwavable burritos, and Lunchables. Her stomach growled at her and she stopped in her tracks, then quickly veered her path to the side to approach the display. Now that she was looking straight at a whole wall of food, her stomach felt like a deep, empty pit that may never be properly filled again. It rumbled and ached, and she knew she needed food almost as much as she needed sleep.

She glanced back at the cop, who was finishing his transaction and chatting casually with the cashier about the weather, then looked back at the display. Everything looked delicious, but she reached out and plucked a roast beef and cheddar sub from its spot on the shelf, then a ham and Swiss sub that also looked appetizing, and without thinking, her other hand reached out and scooped up a turkey and muenster sub. She stuffed the three sandwiches into the crook of her arm and reached out with her free hand to grab a bottle of apple juice and a large bottle of water.

She was just about to turn around when the content of the officer's and cashier's conversation caught her attention. She stood still and pretended to be deciding on more food, but listened intently as they spoke with no discretion.

"You hear about that business down by Atlanta? That farm they busted?" the cashier asked.

"Oh yeah. They're lookin' for the youngest daughter. Even sent an APB our way. I guess they sent 'em all over the state. She could be anywhere," the cop spoke as if he'd already heard all the details of the case a hundred times.

The cashier tsked. "Shame. Girl's only eighteen, daddy was a pastor, can't believe he'd let his little girl get all caught up in that nonsense. How on earth did they keep it hidden fer so long? That place looked huge on the news!"

Officer Blake's voice took on a slightly amused tone when he said, "Nonsense? That was a multi-million dollar drug operation. All kinds o' stuff they found in there. Girl probably had no damn choice, if ya wanna be honest, Gretchen. At that size an' severity, it becomes their lifestyle."

At least this guy gets it, Beth thought to herself almost gratefully as she stood nearly frozen and hoped she wasn't appearing suspicious. She stepped around a bit, acted like she was making difficult decisions, but the pair behind her were still indulged in their conversation.

He continued, "But all the folks they had workin' on the farm were family and friends, some of 'em business partners. They all had just as much to lose from gettin' caught, so they helped cover it up fer a long time. And it was Senoia, it's a real small town. Y'know, somebody miles outside of here could be runnin' a meth lab, too, and we wouldn't be any wiser unless we had somebody actually report somethin'.

Beth's insides tightened and her mind reeled. They know everything. They busted everyone. Everybody I know is probably goin' to jail.

"Well, that's just crazy," the cashier, who Beth now knew was named Gretchen, said. "I can't believe a man of God would use his influence and his God-given abilities to live such a life."

"Yep, there's some evil people out there, ya know. Wolves dressed in sheep's clothing," Blake remarked in a tone of voice that assumed superiority.

My daddy ain't evil. If anyone in my family is evil, it's me. How dare you talk about him like that when you don't even know him, Beth thought angrily. She wished more than anything that she could turn around and give this pair a piece of her mind.

"Ya heard what the daughter did, right? They finally released it 'bout an hour ago, but we all found out this mornin'," Blake said.

Beth turned her head just slightly so she could glance at the clock that hung on the wall behind the counter and cash register. It read 3:42. They were wasting no time in releasing details to the public about the Greene's case. How much more time did she have to put a few state lines between her and Georgia? She turned back to the food display and kept listening as Gretchen gasped and eagerly asked, "No, I haven't checked the news, what'd she do?"

"Killed an undercover officer. One shot, straight through the heart. Left him dead on the living room floor and her sister knocked out his partner with a heavy damn lamp, nearly gave him brain damage. He's in a coma till God knows when – poor guy, he's got a wife an' a kid and another one on the way. They didn't put it on the news till a little bit ago 'cause they had to notify the next of kin first, but they told all the police departments. Heard about it this mornin' but couldn't say nothin'."

The cop sounded like he found himself very impressive for being a police officer in a tiny town in northern Georgia. Beth was burning with guilt inside, but the fear of how much these people actually knew about her subsided it considerably. Her mind ached with all of the new information and the harsh realization that, yes, she actually had killed that undercover officer – and even worse, Maggie had nearly killed the other one.

She didn't have to look back to already know the expression that was on Gretchen's face at this news. The expected tiny gasp came out, then a second of silence, then the over-dramatic old woman said quietly, "My God… how tragic. Prayers for those poor families… Murdering a police officer, how could someone ever…"

Beth's lips pursed and her stomach churned, but not from hunger this time.

"The murder weapon's missing," Officer Blake added, continuing with more details of the story. "That family had hundreds of guns. They're still findin' weapons, goin' through the whole place and searchin' everywhere. But not one of 'em was the one that killed the officer. They think she's got it with her, and probably a lot more weapons, too. They only found about a million stashed throughout the farm so far, and that's in every little hidin' spot they've been able to locate on the whole property. But the oldest daughter got caught tryin' to run with a bag full of old family jewelry an' about three-hundred-thousand bucks. But that don't sound right to any of the cops I've talked to."

"Whadd'you mean?" Gretchen asked, her interest in every little detail evident by her tone.

"Well, I dunno if they put it on the news yet, but this girl ain't just armed. She's runnin' around with major money, just like her sister was tryin' to do," the officer elaborated. "I mean, they ain't mentioned any money in the reports they've been sendin' us, but I wouldn't be surprised if she's caught with a full bag. See, I heard they found the safe in the old man's study left open – like it'd just been emptied. And then they catch the daughter with a bag full o' money and the kinda stuff you'd keep in a safe? Pretty obvious. The thing that's got me and the other guys wonderin' is – this guy stashed a million dollars in little increments all over the property. If he had a safe, I don't think it'd just be a measly three-hundred-k stashed in there. Had to be at least a million. At least, that's what I'm guessin'. This kinda thing could go straight to the FBI if they can't figure it out. All we know is that this girl's walkin' around with a missing gun and a bag full of hundreds of thousands of dollars and nobody knows where the hell she is or where she's goin'."

Beth's eyes reflexively widened at these words and her heart sped up even more. She'd known it was in the thousands that Maggie had shoved into her bag, but she hadn't thought about close to a million. She had to give this cop some credit – he was certainly observant and read between the lines. Or maybe her daddy just fit the profile of a textbook large-scale drug producer.

"Well, now, I thought she was goin' to Mexico. That's what the news said anyway," Gretchen said.

"They were sayin' that for a while, but they stopped. Atlanta Police told us they been interrogatin' the daughter and her husband. They thought she was complying at first, but now they think she was lyin' about most of the stuff she said – including where her sister is headed," Blake stated matter-of-factly. "And the husband just plain won't say anything, not even a word. Last I heard from a buddy I got workin' down there is the guy's been sittin' in the interrogation room for over twelve hours and ain't even had a drink of water 'cause he won't say yes or no – won't even shake or nod his head."

A sharp pain went through Beth's chest. Glenn, you loyal bastard.

Gretchen tsked again in response to all the news, but her tone returned to casual and she seemed ready to return to her normal life without any thought of other's wrongdoings. "Well that sounds like one hell of a mess, but that little girl's probably long gone from Georgia by now. Fifteen hours and no sign of her? Better start lookin' down towards Mexico."

Officer Blake let out a chuckle and patted the counter as he bid the cashier a jolly goodbye and stepped away holding his purchases.

The cop was just walking out the doors when Beth finally turned around. She debated whether she should risk facing the cashier again, but she quickly decided that if the old woman hadn't recognized her the first time, she probably wouldn't recognize her a brief second time. Beth rushed back to the counter with her arms full of sandwiches and drinks. She plopped it all down on the glass surface and waited for the woman to ring the items up, hoping she hadn't noticed exactly how long she'd been standing there "deciding."

"Saw 'em and got hungry, huh?" The cashier tried to joke, as if she hadn't, just moments before, been discussing a teenaged girl who had killed a cop and escaped the scene just an hour's drive away. But Beth only nodded and smiled in acknowledgement. She was already itching to drive far away from this town, as well as fantasizing about how the sandwiches would taste.

She walked back outside and to her car as quickly as she could while still attempting to appear casual. After tossing the food into the passenger seat, she fueled the car up and learned that putting fifty dollars into the tank was impossible because it only took forty-three to completely fill it up. But she didn't need any more reasons to enter the store again and be on the cameras for another second, or to stand before the woman who'd seen her photo on the news, so she left the balance as it was and got into the car. She buckled herself in and started the engine, then pulled out and away from the market and down the street. Once she was outside city limits and had found another rarely-used backroad that was heading in the direction she needed to go, she pulled over and put the car in park, then grabbed her bag from the market and began ripping open the packaging on all the food she got.

She chugged nearly the entire bottle of apple juice in under a minute, and while she was halfway through the third sandwich, the only thing occupying her mind was the thought of, This would've been better with mayonnaise.

to be continued…