let’s go

January 2088. Liza Hathe and Robbie McCullough are 18. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Robbie said.

Liza went to school forty-five minutes away. It was the fairest compromise she thought she could make. But it couldn’t have actually been worse, because if the school had been any further, she wouldn’t have gone for a second. And then she also wouldn’t be miserable. The four months of her first semester at Dresden had been excruciating. And now winter break was finished and school was starting again for both of them. She was supposed to head back to campus in the morning. 

“Oh, but you don’t need to miss me,” she said. “I’m not going back.”

“Really? When did you decide that?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” she said. 

He was happy first, then doubtful. “Why?”

“Because if I go back, I might actually literally die.”   

“Oh.” He offered her a kind, empathetic smile. “No, definitely don’t go back then.”

But it wasn’t the school. She would have been equally unhappy at Sierra Nova, or at any college. Almost everyone on campus hated her, or vice versa. She didn’t do well with strangers. She never has. All she knows are these forests and rivers, their childhood pranks and games, their skipping school to get lost. Nobody at school talked about adventure or discovery, only achievement and responsibility and the future. Nobody really understood her but Robbie. Screw them all. Her grades were fine and nobody assumed she was unhappy. It was more the feeling of being caged in, like she might scream if she had to go back to those tiny boxes, dormitories, and lecture halls. 

So she just wouldn’t go back. Simple. Problem solved. 

Of course, she never intended to stick out college for the long term—don’t tell her mother she said that. It was interesting enough, but everything else was interesting, too. And maybe she would be an architect some day, but probably she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d be a chicken breeder, or get married and be a mom, or maybe she’d be Indiana Jones. 

Liza had adventure in her heart. She craved wide open forests and exploring the unknown and grabbing Robbie’s hand and saying, “Let’s go get lost somewhere!”

“I found something awesome,” she told him.

“What is it?”

“There was a brochure on the notice board in the dorms. It’ll be the most exciting thing we’ve ever done.”

Robbie loved that sparkle in Liza’s eyes when she had one of those crazy ideas. Whatever it was, it was going to be unforgettable. Like the time she and Robbie hopped on a Greyhound for spring break, tickets bought with summer job money, and ended up wherever, nearly two-thousand miles away. Their parents freaked out, but they were fine. They took care of each other. But that wasn’t allowed, being fifteen.

They weren’t fifteen anymore. He waited for it. 

“Treasure hunting in South America,” she said. 

“Wow.” He was awestruck already. “Yeah, let’s go”. 

She smiled. “But you should graduate, if that’s important to you. I’ll wait for you.”

“Oh, do we have to wait?”

She grinned. “Well,” mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “as long as you don’t change your mind about getting into any competitive ivy league college programs…”

“Too late for that,” Robbie laughed. Robbie was never going to college in any circumstance. He would be content to skate through his high school graduation with a respectable C-minus, and his parents didn’t dare to hope for anything better.

“You already passed your skills testing exam,” she said. “Which is basically the same exam as a GED. You just have to take another like it and file some paperwork, no problem. You could be done now.”

“And we can go now?”

“Yeah, we can.”

The excitement they created was electric. This time, they weren’t kids anymore and nobody could tell them to come home. This time, the world was their backyard, and the sky was the limit, and Robbie—sweet doting Robbie—would follow her to the ends of the earth. All she had to do was say where.

Nobody could stop them this time.

They made a simple and foolproof plan. They came back from their winter walk, leaving their snowy boots at the door so his parents wouldn’t worry that they’d perished in an icy ditch somewhere. They went up to his bedroom and shut themselves inside. She would sleep over like she planned to. In adulthood now, his parents gave them plenty of privacy, not wanting to walk in on something intimate. So nobody would notice their absence for hours. 

In the morning, Robbie didn’t have much to pack. Liza wasn’t bringing much, either. Their departure would be swift and clean. A couple of changes of clothing, whatever money they’d earned from summer jobs, and contact information for when they got there.  

Instead of borrowing his mom’s van to drive Liza to campus, they got a taxi to the train station and bought two tickets. 

It would be hours before anyone noticed that Robbie didn’t show up at school, or that Liza didn’t check in at the dorms. But all they really needed was enough time to board the train and depart. They were well out of the state before his mother called. 

“Don’t answer,” Liza said. “Not yet.” 

They would have to explain themselves at some point. Legally, they didn’t need to explain anything to anyone. But they would. They had that much respect for their parents, at least. 

But first, they wanted to enjoy the adventure while it was fresh and exciting. They crossed so many new places they’d never been to and saw so many new things they’d never seen. 

But they weren’t going straight to South America. That was beyond even their wild capabilities. First stop was Red Canyon, Utah.

It was an odd little town, hours outside of absolutely anywhere. Neither of them had ever been this far west, but this was only the beginning.

The brochure promised the adventure of a lifetime, all expenses paid. Wasn’t it probably a scam? Didn’t their parents teach them better than that? They were too old to be sold into sex trafficking, probably. They weren’t naïve enough to be coaxed into drug trafficking, they didn’t think. If there were other kinds of trafficking, they were blissfully unaware, and so failed to worry about them.

Whether they got the mysterious job or not, this place was going to be their new home for a little while. There was no going back now. It was sink or swim. They got a bare bones little apartment above a bar. It was shabby and smelled of cigarette smoke and motor oil, but there didn’t appear to be any roaches or mice. It could have been worse. 



And this was finally the exciting launch into adulthood that Liza dreamed of—just the two of them, free and roaming the big wide world full of adventure and possibilities. Not boxing themselves into tiny dorm rooms and lecture halls. Not burdened by the future and all of its rigid expectations.

“It’s going to be amazing,” she told him, and whatever Liza told Robbie was the undisputed truth.

She may be wild and a little reckless, but Liza has always been smart. She would never let anybody call Robbie stupid, but it was true that he was trusting and it was true that he was a little naïve. And sometimes his belief in her felt heavy.  

When they were in the principal’s office once in seventh grade, she got a lecture about how her friend’s trust was a great responsibility. It was supposed to make her feel guilty for encouraging him to skip school, but that wasn’t the lesson that stuck with Liza that day. It was that being responsible for his trust was the only responsibility she was ever interested in having. And it would be her duty. She would take care of him like he took care of her.

After twenty-four hours and several voicemails from Robbie’s mom, Liza’s phone started pinging with missed calls and frantic messages, too. Robbie’s parents had always been the more lenient ones, so they knew that when the worry trickled over to Liza’s mom, things were serious. It was time for them to explain themselves.

They agreed on a simple script, and they called at the same time:

“We love you.”
“Yes, we’re fine.”
“No, we can’t tell you where we are.”
“Yes, we have a little bit of money.”
“No, we’re not coming back for a while.”

There were broken hearts and tears and worry, but also reassurances and promises that they could come back home whenever, no matter what. 

They were sorry to have left so abruptly, but they didn’t want to risk being talked out of it. It was too big and too important. 


Finally, the morning of their appointment came. An interview of sorts. They had an address and a time and a name: Gael Espinoza. Liza had googled him. He was an antiquities dealer. She was ninety percent sure no trafficking was involved. 

It was time to meet the man who would decide whether this adventure was going to fly or flop.


But first, they passed another man in a colander for a hat, who said, “Watch out, man. They’re listening. They put bugs in your dental fillings, man. They’re trying to get your brain.”

“Right on, brother,” Robbie said.


A shuttle bus brought them to a gated neighborhood on top of the mesa. A big ranch house with security gates and thick prickly plants all around.

A woman answered the door and showed them in, seeming to have expected them.

“If you’re here to see Gael, he’s out back with the llamas.”

Llamas? How strange. 

So they followed the blonde woman out back to where Mr. Espinoza worked with his animals. His wife seemed pleasant enough, so it was a surprise that their hopeful employer, a man of fluffy llamas, was so stern.

“Um. We want to apply for the Selvadorada job.”

He looked them both up and down with a scowl. They didn’t seem to be what he expected. 

“Are you the college kid who called me from Wisconsin?”

“Yeah,” Liza said.

“And you said you were bringing brawn? He doesn’t look very brawny.”


“He’s strong,” she said.

“I used to work on a farm,” Robbie said. “I’m a little strong.”

The man shook his head at them. “I’m running a business, not a spring break party. I don’t need two coddled suburban kids looking to drop out of school and get a free ticket to go on vacation.”


“Oh, but we can work,” Liza pleaded. “And I hate parties, I promise.”

Mr. Espinoza sighed with displeasure, shaking his head. “Okay, let’s see if you’re still interested after I tell you about the gig. Pay is $500 per quarter, which is probably far more than you’d ever make waiting tables or whatever it is kids your age might do. We work for six weeks of the quarter, and the rest of your time is yours. All expenses paid—travel, visas, lodging, supplies, food. Leisure and medical expenses are on you. If you think that sounds like a vacation, you’d be very wrong.”

“On the job, you do as you’re told. You dig if you’re told to dig, you carry what you’re told to carry, you run if you’re told to run, you don’t ask questions. You don’t steal from me. Brawny here looks like he does as he’s told. But you, Missy, you look like trouble. And that semester of archaeology gets you nowhere on my crew. You listen to me, you listen to the real archaeologists, you listen to the legal team. Everyone is your superior. Got it?”


“You sign a safety waiver—as in, there’s no safety guaranteed—understand? This isn’t Disney Land, it’s the real deal. Medical expenses are not included, should you need it, and you might. Bug bites, scrapes, twisted ankles, or worse. It happens. But you kids look like the type who could have your parents wire some money.”


“I’m not going to ask if your parents know you’re here, it’s none of my business as long as you’re of age. Speaking of. Must be eighteen, proof of age required. So let’s get some ID’s up front.”

They hand over their ID’s.

“Whew, buddy, you just made the cut. I won’t have to convince you that it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, the experience of a lifetime. But it’s not easy work. You sign a contract to complete the six weeks, except in the event of injury… or, well, death. Once we’re on the plane, there’s no turning back.”

Robbie grimaced. “Lizzy, did he say, death?”

“You heard what I said, kid.”


“We heard,” Liza said. “I promise, we are excellent at not dying. Remember that time when Fiona had some firecrackers and an old oil barrel and three gallons of popcorn kernels, and she was just gonna let it all do its thing. But I made sure we stood back far enough so that the shrapnel wouldn’t hurt us.”

“Yeah,” Robbie chuckled, “that was cool.”

“And we also made sure to scare off the birds and squirrels first, so they wouldn’t get hurt.” The man looked like he cared a lot about animals, so Liza really wanted to add that last bit. 

“Nobody plays with explosives on my crew unless I say so,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Robbie said dutifully, which he liked. 

Liza nodded, too. 


“Hmmm,” the man mumbled, his eyes narrow and judging. He considered them so carefully and for so long, they couldn’t guess whether he would say yes or no. “Okay. I need people who are brave, but also who follow orders. The first part, I think you kids have covered. The second, well, if you don’t follow orders, it’s on you, not me. So you have two weeks to change your mind. If you don’t change your mind, show up here, Sunday, February 8th, eight a.m. on the dot.”

They would be there.


But as they walked away, Liza looked shook. And that worried Robbie, because it took a lot to shake Liza Hathe. 

“Are you good scared, or bad scared?” Robbie asked. 

“Maybe I’ll know when we get there,” she said. 

—

extras: their grungy smelly first apartment above a bar