The Astana Diaries 5: Escape to the Island

Welcome back, my readers. All stories must end. In this chapter, the story of my hiding in a Wyoming cabin will conclude. But whenever one story comes to a finish, a new one must begin.

When I last left off, it was Christmas Eve. I had done some Christmas shopping and was on a date with my boyfriend to Yellowstone. But someone was following me. Someone very sinister.

So, let us get back to this story. As Jake and I ride into Yellowstone, someone is secretly following us.

The sun began to set on the horizon as Jake and I parked our bikes. After securely locking them up, we walked up to the railing, gazing at Old Faithful. With the geyser set to erupt in a few minutes, Jake hugged me. At that moment, I was truly happy. I was in hiding. I was a fugitive. I was isolated from almost any other human being. But the people I was with were those whom I loved more than almost anyone. My siblings were at home. And right next to me, my boyfriend was standing right there, gazing with me out at the geyser.

It erupted, the water spraying up and out, then died down. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Afterward, we took a bike ride back into town. Passing a church, we heard the bells ringing, signaling midnight. It was officially Christmas.

It was almost 1:00 when we made it back to the cabin. After stashing our bikes in a slightly different place, we began the cautious, moonlit trek back home. As the few bugs still out in the cold weather chirped and the moon in the sky shone down, we came upon the river. Following it, we came upon Zoe sitting on the porch, waiting for us.

As we walked inside, we found Kissa and Ares asleep. Jake handed the presents to Zoe, who set them down. The three of us went to sleep, knowing it would not be long before we were awoken. Sure enough, a few hours later, it was Christmas morning.

As soon as I opened my eyes, Ares dragged me out of bed and brought me to the tree. Zoe and Jake, equally tired and bewildered, sat there as well.

Kissa handed out the presents, and we began to open them. In addition to the things I had bought for myself, I also received a necklace of acorns, pine needles, and leaves, encased in resin and made into a wreath by Kissa and Ares. As I smelled the necklace, I felt the life of the woods around us and hugged my siblings.

It finally came time for Jake and I to open each other’s gifts. Jake went first, smiling at the necklace. He hugged me, then handed me a small, fancy box. I opened it, finding a sparkling necklace with hundreds of small gems and rocks on it, and an intricately carved poppy as the centerpiece. Made from a swirl of gold, silver, crystal, moonstone, and jade, it was the coolest stone I had ever seen.

I breathed in a sigh of awe. “I had it custom-made for you,” Jake told me.

I stared at the necklace, wondering how much it was worth. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was a gift, a gesture of love.

“Thank you,” I told him. He smiled and went behind me, clasping the piece of jewelry around my neck.

Zoe handed me a mirror and I looked at myself wearing the beautiful necklace. It went perfectly with my dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale olive complexion.

Jake hugged me, both of us wearing the jewelry as Zoe read her book and the kids played with Hot Wheels and horses.

The moment seemed perfect, which it almost was. As it felt like it would never end, we heard footsteps outside. Lots of them.

Jake, Zoe, and I sprang to our feet. As was the plan, we each went to a separate location out the front, Zoe staying inside, and me out of the window. Each of us took a knife with us.

The snow was still falling, burying the ground in a frozen blizzard. And then I saw them camouflaged, bulky men, at the fighting range. I counted four, all staring at the front of the cabin.

From my vantage point, I saw Jake knock them down with a flurry of Kung-Fu kicks and Kenpo punch techniques. Then I heard someone behind me. I felt a pain in my head and everything went black.

I awoke moments later, hearing the sounds of dozens of people fighting each other. Then Jake came up to me, worried. He picked me up in his arms and carried me into the house, him and Zoe standing over me. While Kissa and Ares frantically packed, he gave me some ice and told me, “We have to get out. Now.”

I nodded and sat up. As I finished regaining consciousness, the five of them completed the packing. We ran outside, through the woods, and to the place where our bikes were hidden-or so we thought. We heard voices. Lots of them.

Jake readied his slingshot as we approached a road we did not recognize. We were lost. In our frantic escape, we had gone the wrong way.

A van drove down the road, the driver wearing the discreet but recognizable badge of an enemy operative. Jake fired a rock through the open window, hitting the driver. As the van swerved, Zoe leaped into the front and grabbed the steering wheel. Jake climbed in after her, while I helped Kissa and Ares load our supplies into the back. Two minutes later, we were ready. The driver had been left on the side of the road, unconscious. Jake had examined him and determined that he would live. When he came to his senses, we would be long gone.

I joined my siblings, hiding in the back of the van between two piles of suitcases. We eventually came to the Interstate, then half an hour later, Jake said to me over our closed-circuit walkie-talkies he had allegedly bought at a gas station, “We are now in Montana.”

That night, we slept in a motel in some small border town, then visited a coffee shop the next day.

“I am tired of this life,” I said. “Constantly on the run, hiding from the outside world, but never fully succeeding.”

Jake nodded. “Go on,” he said.

“I want to go somewhere where they will never find us. Settle down, start a family on some tropical island like in the movies.”

Jake nodded. “I know just the place.”

Back in the van as we drove to Bozeman, we discussed the location of the island. It was very remote, uninhabited, and belonged to an eccentric billionaire who Jake somehow knew and either was on exceptionally good terms with or had some leverage over.

In Bozeman, we stayed the night, and the next morning came to the airport. We waited in the early hours of the day as a plane landed, and then boarded. The pilot spoke quietly to Jake, agreeing to drop us off in San Francisco.

The ride was emotional, all of us knowing that we would never come back for several years, at least.

We finally landed in San Francisco. We spent the next few days shopping, sightseeing, and having fun like a normal family.

Jake had somehow gotten his hands on a private plane, which we filled to the brim with a variety of stuff. At the airport, we stood on the tarmac, staring out at the world.

Finally, the group of us climbed aboard the plane as Jake took off. The ride to the island took hours, and we touched down, preparing to start a new life.

The tropical paradise was beautiful, with amazing scenery and many places for a house to be built.

And so, this story ends. We have left home, to start a new family someplace else. On a remote island, this series finally ends.

But, as I have mentioned previously, wherever one story ends, another must begin. And this is no exception. In a few days, prepare for a sequel to the Astana Diaries, following the adventures of our kids on the island as they leave home and discover the outside world. See you soon.