Southbound and Single

The bus rumbled southward, carrying them farther from Buenos Aires, farther from the eyes they knew were watching. Jessica sat by the window, forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the landscape shift as the city’s dense sprawl faded into the empty vastness of Patagonia.

Inside the bus, the group was quiet. Too quiet. The exhaustion of their escape had settled into their bones, but sleep was impossible. Every bump in the road felt like a warning, every distant car light a potential threat.

Leanna sat beside Jessica, a notebook open in her lap, scratching down notes on the Vanguard data they’d stolen. Kevin and Hannah whispered in hushed voices a few seats back. Olivia sat behind them, her laptop screen dimmed as she worked, eyes darting up every few minutes to scan the other passengers.

They had ditched their old phones at a rest stop and swapped out their SIM cards. Their new identities were hastily crafted, but hopefully enough to buy them time. For now, they were just travelers. Tourists heading south.

And yet, Jessica couldn’t shake the feeling of being hunted.

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

By the time they arrived, night had fallen over Patagonia. The town was small, barely more than a collection of wind-beaten buildings under the endless sky. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of rain on dry earth.

Olivia handled their lodging, negotiating with a weary-eyed guesthouse owner who barely looked up from his paperwork. Their rooms were simple—bare wooden furniture, a single dim lightbulb, and windows with thin curtains that barely blocked the wind.

Kevin exhaled as he dropped his bag onto the bed. "Could be worse."

Hannah sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her temples. "Could be better."

Jessica didn’t comment. She barely heard them. Her mind was still stuck on the words in Olivia’s files—Project Albatross. Subject Status: Active. Someone else was still out there. Someone like her. And she had run.

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

It happened after midnight. Jessica had just stepped outside, letting the cold air clear her thoughts. The silence of Patagonia was deafening—no city noise, no humming neon signs, just the whisper of the wind.

Then her phone buzzed. She knew before even looking that it was Ryan.

She hesitated. Her fingers trembled as she swiped to answer.

"Jess?"

His voice was the same—steady, familiar. It sent a pang through her chest.

"Ryan." She swallowed. "Hey."

A pause. Then a sigh. "I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up."

Jessica let out a humorless laugh. "Thought about it."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"Jess... I can’t do this anymore."

She closed her eyes. There it was.

"I still love you," he said, voice low, conflicted. "But you’re not the same person I knew. And maybe I’m not the same either. I can’t keep pretending we’re something we’re not."

Jessica felt her throat tighten. "You met someone."

Ryan exhaled sharply. "Yeah. I didn’t plan to. It just... happened."

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. "Good. That’s good."

"Jess—"

"No, really." She forced the words out. "I want you to be happy."

He didn’t answer at first. "Are you?"

Jessica looked up at the stars, endless and uncaring. Was she happy? What did that even mean anymore?

"I don’t know," she admitted. "But I’ll figure it out."

Ryan hesitated. "Be safe."

She almost said something—almost asked him to wait, almost told him she still had his albums, that she still thought about the way his hands felt in hers. But she didn’t.

"Goodbye, Ryan."

She ended the call before he could say anything else. Then she stood there, phone clutched in her hand, staring into the dark until the wind swallowed her whole.