He carried her to the edge of the trailer and lowered her gently to the ground, grabbing a bottle of water from his pack.
«Drink slowly,» he instructed.
She clutched the bottle with trembling hands. «Others,» she whispered, coughing. «My brother. Please.»
She pointed to the bale behind hers. Miller looked at the massive cylinders of hay. He was one man. He had to open three more tombs.
He moved to the second bale. This one was harder. The glue was thicker.
He slashed at the hay, blinding himself with dust and chaff. He found the wood. He hammered the crowbar in.
Crack. He ripped the panel off.
Inside were two people: a man and a teenage boy, squeezed together in a space meant for neither. The man was unconscious. The boy was awake, eyes rolling in his head, gasping for air.
«Hang on!» Miller yelled.
He dragged them out, laying them on the cold asphalt beside the woman. The man had a weak pulse. Miller positioned his head to open the airway.
He moved to the third bale. His arms were burning. His lungs heaved. The physical exertion was immense, but the adrenaline masked the pain.
He tore the third bale open. Three people: a mother and two small children. They were silent, lethargic, and hypoxic. They were running out of air.
«Wake up! Look at me!» Miller shouted, tapping the woman’s cheeks lightly as he pulled them into the fresh air.
The children began to cry—a beautiful sound, because it meant they were breathing. He reached the fourth bale. The final one.
He jammed the bar in, but his sweat-slicked hands slipped. He smashed his knuckles against the wood, skinning them raw. He didn’t stop.
He reset his grip and heaved with a primal roar. The wood shattered. Two more men.
These were awake, but disoriented. They tumbled out, vomiting bile onto the trailer deck.
Eight people. Miller stood on the flatbed, chest heaving, looking down at the scene. Eight human beings packed like sardines into farm equipment.
If he hadn’t stopped that truck, if Duke hadn’t barked, they would have been driven north—maybe to a drop house, maybe to a grave. Miller jumped down to check on the unconscious man. He was starting to stir.
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