It's like hot white fire ripping through my arm, spreading through my body, right down to the tips of my toes. 

I don't know how long it's been since the bullet hit.  I know I've blacked out a few times.

I don't know where we are.  What time it is.  What day it is.

"Hold still."

I'm on a bed, stomach side down, my chin resting on a pillow.  I know Mags is straddling me, her hands putting a lot of pressure on the wound.  Somewhere, seemingly far away, my baby daughter is crying.

I can't help her.

"Mack..." 

"She's just cranky.  I need you to relax Justin.  Open your mouth."

I do it.  It seems to take forever.  She puts a wad of cloth inside my mouth, and I'm not confused.  I'm just more delirious than I was before.

"This is going to hurt, Justin," she whispers.  "A lot.  The bullet is still inside you and...I have to take it out or you'll get a really bad infection, okay?  You have to bite down on the cloth when I go in to get it.  You could hurt yourself otherwise."

There's a bubbling kettle of water right next to the bed.  The water vapor is soothing, curling and swirling and disappearing into the ceiling.  It occurs to me that I barely heard what she just said to me.  "Mmhm."

I see her stick some kind of metal tool inside the kettle and back out again awhile later.

And then, shit, I've never felt such terrible pain in my life.  Not even when my heart was bad.

I scream into the cloth, and bite down harshly.  The tears and sweat drip down my face, and I try to beg her to stop, but I can't get the words out, so I just sob and groan.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers.  "I...I got it out.  I'm going to stitch up your shoulder, so...so just keep the cloth in your mouth, because it's going to sting a lot.  I'll try to numb the pain with rubbing alcohol."

Clink, goes the bullet into the glass on the nightstand.  Then I feel something sharp and long puncturing my skin.  I look back slightly, my tears blurring my vision.  I see the needle and thread and the blood on Mags hands.

I love her so much.

I pass out.

************

December 10, 2017

10:00 pm

TexInn Motel New Boston

 906 North Mccoy Blvd, New Boston, TX 75570 

727 miles to the border

We crossed the Texas border, but we're still only forty minutes away from where we started in Arkansas.  It may as well be another world though.  It's still a dump here of course, but a little bigger, and a little cleaner, which is important for Justin and why I picked it to begin with.
There isn't much furniture in here, but the extra bed and the dresser have both been shoved up against the door.  The blinds are drawn and I've only kept one light on at a time.  I made sure to bring everything in from the car, once I was able to get Justin's bleeding under control, and I parked it far from our room, under a tree, where it was less noticeable.  I don't plan on leaving for at least twenty four hours, and it's not like Justin will be well enough for travel tomorrow anyway.  I went buck wild shopping in that Walmart in Virginia and we have everything we need, including first aid supplies, even a hot water kettle, which I had originally debated about but bought anyway. It's a good thing I did.

It's been a key factor in saving Justin's life.

No, I'm not a doctor.  I had first aid training back in high school, but it never prepared me for something like this.  I acted on instinct I guess.  My first aid kit included forceps, and I knew if I sterilized them properly I could probably get the bullet out of Justin's shoulder.  I knew there were no choices.  The moment I laid him down on the bed, and got his bleeding somewhat under control, I could tell his wound was quickly becoming infected, and he wouldn't last the night unless I took action.  A hospital was out, for obvious reasons.  I knew if we wanted to push on, stay alive, and away from Hannah, I was going to have to fix Justin myself.  There were risks of course, and I knew I could do more damage if I wasn't careful, but it was the only option.

He passed out right after I retrieved the bullet from his shoulder, which I guess was better for him.  He didn't have to endure the rest of it.  The stitches and the dressing of his wound.  I cleaned the wound as best I could as soon as it was stitched up, and I put a triple layer of gauze and bandages around his shoulder before putting his arm into a makeshift sling I formed from the second beds flat sheet.  He slept through it all, and it gave me a chance to crumble a little afterwards.  I took a shower to wash the blood off my body, slid down the wall and wrapped my arms around my knees, sobbing gently, praying that what we were doing was the right thing.  Praying that we would make it across Texas and into Mexico with no more problems. Praying that Mack would be okay and that Justin would recover from his gunshot wound.

I turned on the news, kept it very low as not to wake Justin, or Mackayala who I just got down not too long ago.  I swore I wouldn't watch, but I can't help myself now.  I need to know what they know, where they are, and if we might need to run tomorrow instead of staying cooped up here.

It's all CNN can seem to talk about...us.  My history, Justin's history, Hannah's rise to stardom, Shelby's horrific end.  How evil I am.  They interview Tad tonight.  He doesn't say much, but then again, we had a deal.  Then they cut to the local 'townsfolk'.  They interview the staff at the Waffle House we ran from.  Our waitress in particular just swears she could see the devil inside me the moment we sat down.

"Just moments ago, we learned that the three have been spotted today, at a medical clinic in Arkansas.  Authorities claim, that at least Justin Timberlake has been injured by a gunshot wound, and that he may not be so innocent in all of this after all."

"He just held that gun to my head and told me if I didn't put the phone down he'd kill me right then and there."  The doctor says in a croaky sort of voice.  "I don't see how that girl can be the only fugitive in all this.  It seemed to me like he wanted to run just as bad as she did."

I shut the tv off.

What's our next move? 

They're not here yet, but we're forty minutes away from that clinic.  That means they could get here at any moment, and obviously they're not beneath going door to door and business to business if it means finding us.

My gaze lands on Justin, still fast asleep, pale faced, in no condition to travel.

But we're both fugitives now, according to the press, and I'm sure according to everyone else too.  The only innocent party in this is Mack, which makes us kidnappers.  If they come here, if they find us, it's over.

All over.

Five hours.  He can rest for five more hours, then we can go.

I'm shaking.

"Maggie."  Justin's eyes open a crack and his voice is barely a whisper.  

"It's okay."  I rub his hand gently and then move next to him so I can stroke his face.  "Close your eyes."

"What happened to me?"
He's been delirious for hours, that's apparent now, but I'm almost happy that he doesn't remember.  "You got shot, in the shoulder.  I had to get the bullet out of you...it wasn't the most...pleasant experience for you."

He tries to sit up, and winces in pain.

"Sit back."  I help him back down into his pillows gently.  "You need to rest."

"They must be close to finding us."

I stare at him.  I want to hide it all, tell him that he's wrong, to just go to sleep.

But I can't lie to him.

"They are."

"You can leave me here.  Hannah can do whatever she wants to me.  It's more important that Mack makes it...that you make it, Mags."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Maggie."

"I'm not going to tell you again."

He's silent.

"Five hours.  We can lay low here for five hours,and then we'll leave," I say.

"They're hunting us down right now.  What's five hours going to do?"

He's right.

"I can't risk you getting worse."

"How far are we?"

"Eleven hours out.  700 miles, a little over."

He leans his head back further into the pillows.  "We can do it.  We can drive the whole thing without stops."

"Justin..."

"What's the alternative," he says, weakly.  "Wait here like bait? Get caught? Lose everything?  Maggie...we're so close.  We're right here.  700 miles, baby.  We can do this.  We can cross the border by tomorrow.  We can leave at first light."

"Not in that car.  They know the make."

"Then we steal one, from the lot."

I shake my head. "You're still delirious."

"I'm serious."

He really is, and I know we don't have a lot of choices.  He has a good point.  Sitting here is a trap in itself.  We should try to go, because he's willing to do it, so I need to be as well.  "I don't know the first thing about hot wiring a car."

"This is the sticks.  People leave their keys in their sun visors and the doors unlocked. You're bound to find something.  It's either that or...carjack someone with the gun."

"Now I know you've lost it.  I'm not doing that to someone."

"It might be easier."

"You're crazy."

"I got shot, you dug a bullet out of my shoulder.  Maggie, I think we've surpassed the crazy point of this whole thing already. We're not going to hurt anybody."

"That's what you said when you put the gun to the Doctor's head."

"Well,l didn't hurt him."

"No, you just got shot instead and you're lucky to be alive right now with my stone age surgery techniques.  Do you think people that stay at these places don't carry weapons?"

"Look, just hear me out."

"Seriously, Justin...I..."

"Just listen!" He winces.

"Fine." I cross my arms.

"You take Mack, and ask for directions.  I'll go around to the passenger side, and stick the gun in..."

"Are you hearing yourself!"

"We only have a few hours before they find us, Maggie." He says it seriously, his expression solemn, tired, and hollow.  "If the other cars in the lot happen to be locked, what other options are there? We can't go to a dealership now.  They'll make us in a second."

I sigh deeply.  "I really don't know, Justin.  I just...don't."

"We do it," he tells me.  "We wait here until first light, and then we do it, first car we see at the first public place we come across."

"I..."

"We're doing it.  It's our only chance now."

I back down.  I don't know why.  I guess I'm just so fucking tired that I can't argue anymore.  "Fine. We do it.  First light."

He settles back against the pillows and his eyes close moments later. Soon enough, I do the same.  I settle in beside him, and he puts his good arm around me, kissing my forehead and promising me everything will make sense in the morning as I allow my eyes to close and begin to drift off to sleep.

I really hope he's right.