The next day I was more than a little listless as I drifted through the day’s itinerary. I was left having to decide if I was ready to risk legal punishment in my effort to escape. Since, actually breaking in definitely risked them stopping me before I got to the phone.

Though, on the other hand, if they were technically at least sort of kidnapping everyone, would they risk calling the police? Though, there were punishments outside the law they could try, weren’t there? That thought bounced around in my head throughout the later part of the morning. At least as much as I could think about it while I explained how to fix a toast oven to Hannah. Which required a fair bit of thought, as I’d never actually done that before. 

The principals were the same basics that I was used to, but the set up was still quite different from what I was used to. Quite apart from the computer repair work I was used to.

On top of that was another distraction. One I felt guilty about… but there was no denying that Hannah looked good with her hair cropped short and the simple masculine clothing they were making us wear. 

Lots of the others looked good, if I was being honest. Perhaps it was just that there was something about the effects of estrogen—about the fact that they were women that made me more comfortable around them. Dealing with guys since I’d started working out my gender feelings had grown more and more awkward. There was an ever greater wall between me and them, combined with an ever greater fear of them responding poorly to who I was.

Whereas other women… especially other trans women… it was simply safer. At least for the most part. Some folks here seemed rather too enthusiastic about the whole process and I wasn’t sure how to act around them. 

Hannah, though. She was shy, nervous, and there was a kindness about her. Adding in the way the enforced presentation made her seem handsome (more handsome than men, really… everyone looked so much better than men dressed similarly) and I found it hard to focus on other matters.

Eventually, though, we broke for lunch and I headed off to sit on my own in the cafeteria. I couldn’t help worrying I might say something that would make us both uncomfortable if I was given too much opportunity to speak. 

---

After lunch we went over to the weights area once again. It was another hour of being pushed to our limit. Limits that hadn’t changed much just yet, but… maybe by the end of the month there would be a difference. 

If I stayed that long.

I didn’t want to stay that long.

Once we’d worked ourselves into jello and then had run through our cooldown stretches we then moved onto the next activity for the day. That proved to be a practice in changing the tires of a few old trucks that were starting to rust on the property. 

It was rather boring, helping some of the other girls understand how it worked. Part way along, however, someone dropped the lug wrench, which managed to bounce under the truck. Being skinnier (and flatter chested…) than most of the other girls I volunteered to squeeze in to grab it.

It was an older pickup, so it was fairly low to the ground, but I still had a bit of wiggle room to shimmy in and grab the lug wrench. I gave a shout of success, then took a moment to try to adjust my posture and make wiggling out easier. However, I found my eyes drifting along the bottom of the truck.

Everything seemed to be in perfectly working order. There was a little rust, but it all looked drivable.

Pulling myself out and handing the wrench to the woman who’d dropped it, I checked to see where the instructor watching over us was. She was busy helping folks around one of the other trucks, specifically the most rusted out one. I heard her muttering something about them having to give up on using it next year.

Taking a chance from her distraction, I popped the hood on the truck we were around, giving the engine a quick look over. Everything seemed to be present and accounted for. There was a bit of rust and oil, but it looked drivable. As I stared at it, a memory then flashed in my brain of the jerry cans that were sitting by one of the outbuildings, not too far from the still in use SUVs.

It all added up to give me an idea.

---

I got lucky that night. After dark they took us back out to change the tires again, this time by flashlight. We were each given a small flashlight to use, the instructor stating something about it being properly butch to always be prepared with one. Rather than being a ‘bunch of princesses’ who scream when the power goes out.

It was all stereotyping nonsense that I didn’t really care about, but I was going to put the flashlight to good use.

Once again waiting an hour or so after lights out, I snuck over to the jerry cans and then lugged one over to the old pickup. My muscles were still rather sore from the earlier trip to the gym, but I was able to manage. It was barely 50m. Pouring a little bit of the gas into the tank with shaky arms felt risky, but I managed to avoid spilling any significant amount.

Then I slipped into the truck, where I had seen earlier that they’d left the keys in the ignition. In fact, I wasn’t sure if it would be possible to get the keys out. They’d rusted in place rather thoroughly. 

At least they were solid enough to turn, though. The engine sputtered, attempting to come alive. Only to have it splutter out on me.

I gave a small sigh, but I had expected something like this. It was why I’d only poured part of the gas in. There was a reason they’d given up on it and left it to rust, after all. 

Popping the hood again, I leaned in with the flashlight, taking a closer look than I’d managed during the afternoon. There were a few obvious problem points. The battery connections looked corroded and the fuel filter seemed rather clogged.

Goals in mind, I hurried over to the one shed I had seen that they kept most of the tools and was thrilled to find it wasn’t locked. I grabbed a rag, a monkey-wrench, and a few other obvious needs, before hurrying back to the truck. I was about to push my car repair skills to their very limit, doing some things I had only seen my father do once or twice… still, they made these things to be user friendly, didn’t they? So it couldn’t be that hard.

Finding a hose tap to wet the rag, I then cleaned off the contact point for the battery. All while praying to any benevolent force that might be listening that the battery wasn’t completely dead. It was probably going to need a boost, but there was no way all these ‘be prepared for anything’ instructors lacked a battery starter kit. 

With the battery cleaned and the connection rejigged a little to make sure it had a proper contact, I gave the truck another try and had it splutter once more. That meant it was time to try a bit of a gamble.

I turned to one of the even rustier trucks and popped its hood open. They looked like the same make, so I was hoping it might have a fuel filter that would work long enough to reach the next town over. Or the highway, at least. Somewhere, anywhere, someone might find me and get me away from here.

Shaking my head to try to focus despite exhaustion, I then managed to confirm the two trucks used the same fuel filter. Struggling for a few minutes, I eventually worked out how to properly remove the one filter and gave it a quick once over under the flashlight. It seemed cleaner than the other one, even as the rest of the truck was in far worse shape. 

Removing the other filter was easier, with the experience from the first struggle. Putting the transplant fuel filter in place was a bit of a struggle again, but I managed to get them both swapped around before exhaustion caused me to begin losing focus. 

Realising I wasn’t going to manage anything else that night, I dragged the jerry can back to where I’d found it, to avoid detection. Then I headed back to bed, certain I’d be able to escape the next night.

I barely made it to bed before passing out, however.

---

The next morning I was somewhat of a zombie. I had managed five hours of sleep at most. That may have been doable in university, but not when we were being pushed through such rigorous physical activities every day. 

I tripped and face planted on the ground twice during the morning jog, and was stumbling even when I was on my feet. The morning instructor shouted some insults at me, but I was too half awake to properly process what she’d actually said.

What I was glad for, though, was the coffee we were offered with breakfast. I downed enough of it to probably be unhealthy, but it did make me capable of something vaguely approaching wakefulness. Enough to get me to another electronics class.

Where I was an absolute disaster. Hannah had to elbow me awake during our initial instructions on how to fix the televisions we’d been given. When the lesson was done, she shot me a concerned whisper.

“Did you not sleep?”

“Sorry… sorry,” I mumble, pausing to yawn. “I was up late.”

“… Why?” she asked in a hushed tone. “Did you manage to get a data connection?”

“Hm? No, no,” I replied, also trying my best to keep quiet as I stared at the half disassembled tv in front of us. “My phone’s been dead from day one…”

I picked up a soldering iron, then stared at the circuitry before me, hoping my body might guide me where my brain was failing. Muscle memory and all that.

“So?” Hannah asked.

“…So?”

“Why were you up so late?” she whispered.

“Oh!” I said, rather louder than I should have.

The instructor glared at us and I mimed an apology, before leaning in towards the tv bits and dropping to a low whisper.

“I’m trying to fix up one of the old trucks. The keys are in the transmission and the engine seems passable. I had to change some parts, but I think it will be drivable tonight,” I said, barely loud enough for Hannah to hear, even with her face right next to mine.

Right. Next. To. Mine.

I pulled away, flushed and barely managing to avoid burning myself with the soldering iron in my scrambling. But the proximity had been too much. I could feel her breath on my cheek. We were so close I could smell her… could feel the warmth coming from her body. There had been something slightly intoxicating about it in my exhausted state.

On some level I wanted to kiss her, and I didn’t know if that meant all of this was breaking me down so that I was giving up and craving external femininity instead of striving to gain it from within or if my subconscious was thinking of her as masculine due to the short hair and clothing.

Either way I didn’t like the options in front of me.

Hannah seemed oblivious to my internal struggles of identity and morality however. She gave me a brief once over, clearly wondering what was on my mind, but then continued her questions.

“What are you going to do with it?” she whispered.

I stared for a moment, before remembering she was talking about the truck. “Get out of here. This place is like a prison…”

“Oh… getting out sounds nice. Can I come along?” she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes that I couldn’t say no to. Not with my confused feelings towards her.

So I nodded.

“It’s, um… I’ll hopefully leave about an hour after lights out,” I whispered.

“I’ll be there,” Hannah replied, lighting up with a smile.

---

We got very lucky that the tvs weren’t due at the end of one period, but I was pretty sure we were going to be in trouble if we didn’t escape tonight. There was no way we’d finish fixing it in a single work period.

It was funny the things one’s brain got stuck on. Conditioning from years of formal education pressure, I supposed. It left one with a fear of leaving projects unfinished.

---

That afternoon we had a boxing session. Getting ‘knocked-out’ (otherwise known as falling over after a punch and falling asleep about as soon as I was horizontal) led to me being allowed to sit most of the session out. The instructor made serious efforts to keep me awake, however, fretting about the idea I might have a concussion. 

She eventually calmed down, but by then it was time for dinner. There was truly no rest to be had.

As we walked back towards the cafeteria building, Pat came up beside me, looking worried. 

“She didn’t clock you too hard, did she?” the short woman asked. “You still look out of it.”

“I’m just tired,” I replied.

“Been partying or something?” Pat asked with a small laugh.

“I wish.”

---

While I was exhausted when we were sent to our small rooms I was also too full of nervous energy to even begin to imagine sleeping. If everything went right I’d be out tonight. I’d be free. And then—then I’d have to somehow get my car from my parents and find a place to live, but that was a future problem. I had some money in my bank account and could probably improvise something together.

I did have to wonder what Hannah would do. Did she have somewhere to go? Would I have to take her with me? I had no idea how she’d ended up at this bootcamp. Presumably her family had sent her too, but I didn’t know if she had friends to turn to or… what.

We’d deal with that later, though. Getting out came first.

Once I felt about an hour had gone by I pulled myself out of bed, grabbing the flashlight. It was easy enough to slip out of the building at this point, having done it a few times already. Then I headed over to the gas cans again, grabbing the partially full one again to lug over to the old truck I’d fixed up. 

I was about halfway through filling up the tank when I spotted two figures heading over. For a moment I froze, but then I dropped down, hiding behind the truck as they approached. It took a bit to make them out in the moonlight, but I realised the one was Hannah. The other was… well, I didn’t really know her, but she was another one of the girls stuck here. She was also Native, like Hannah, and… that was about all I knew. Well, that and she was the only girl with long hair still, which had made her stand out, though it was held back in a tight braid. 

It was a bit odd that this bootcamp made cultural accommodations while trying to turn us all masculine. Though, I supposed if families were sending people they’d only pay up if they were happy with the results.

“Hey, I hope it’s ok, but I ended up mentioning that we were heading out to Mags and she wants to come along too,” Hannah said.

“I… sure,” I replied with a small nod as I stood up. “The more the better, I suppose.”

“Nice,” Hannah replied.

“So, where are we going?” Mags asked.

“Uhh… I’m not actually sure where the nearest town is. My father drove me and kind of avoided going near anywhere,” I said, feeling a little self conscious.

“Oh! I can give you directions to Elkwater!” Hannah said, wearing a wide smile.

“Very appreciated,” I replied with a smile, before opening the door so we could all pile in. 

Once we were all seated (Hannah’s thigh brushing against mine), I turned to them both. “Well, cross your fingers that this actually works.”

Hannah nodded enthusiastically and made a show of crossing her fingers. Mags seemed a bit less into the show of it, but did cross hers on one hand.

I turned the ignition and, in a miracle, the car started without needing any boost. The battery was less dead than I’d worried. I then started driving, giving the old house where the instructors slept a large berth. I also kept the lights off, not wanting to risk alerting them. 

We were nearly off the property when I noticed a stout figure standing in our path. Slowing down I felt my heart sink as I worried an instructor had still spotted us. 

It was, however, Pat. 

“So this is what you were up to?” she said, walking up to the side of the truck. “I’m impressed you got this old pile of rust running.

“We’re headed to Elkwater,” Hannah said, before I could manage anything.

“Going to a bar?” Pat asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uhh…” I started to reply.

“Because I could really use a drink. I thought they’d let us have a few beers by now,” she muttered.

“There’s room in the back,” Mags said, pointing a thumb behind her.

“I suppose we’ll celebrate first,” I mumbled, figuring it probably wasn’t even 10:30 yet. 

We’d probably get to Elkwater before midnight. There’d be time to get a few drinks to celebrate our freedom and then contact the police… right? That, or the police station would already be closed and we’d have to wait until morning either way.

So we let Pat hop in the back, laying down to avoid any trouble. Hannah then gave enthusiastic directions as we put distance between ourselves and the bootcamp. Enthusiastic instructions that seemed to result in her brushing against me quite a bit. It was a little distracting, but I had to focus on the road. Especially with how tired I was.

The taste of freedom was a good stimulant, however. It kept me awake and alert as we took a number of dark country roads towards the small town of Elkwater Alberta. A surprisingly forested town, for the part of the country it was in. The Cyprus hills still felt rather odd to me…

Pat then led us towards the nearest bar, where she quickly bought a toast for me, celebrating my mechanical skills. It was a bit embarrassing, but kind of nice to have someone boosting my ego and all that.

The pride coming before the fall.