The truck rumbled along the highways for hours, Archer using up the last of his rations to feed the children when they started to complain of hunger. Kurt sat with his youngest son in his arms, rocking him gently as Anya tried to get some sleep, propped up against the crates beside them.
The drone from the tyres against the asphalt was never ending, and the cramped conditions was starting to cause the adults discomfort as they were forced to curl their bodies up to fit.
Hours passed before the truck began to slow, Archer jerked up, his ears pricked in concern, listening for voices outside. They had no idea if they were at the unload point and they could not afford to be discovered and have the authorities involved.
Climbing up stiffly, Archer crept along the top of the crates to the ba
