Next stop on the ominous train, maybe you’re a lone survivor. You got a look at the devil’s face and know he may come for you before the good guys (cops, in this case) ever even get close.
Any of these situations justly and naturally warrant a fresh start. The moment has come for you to strip off the heavy shell of you-ness and get a new beginning, a new name and a new life. It’s time for a little karmic remodeling.
I will now state the obvious (for posterity): once you get to this point, you’d better know exactly why you bothered.
I, Saul, the man with the plan and the best friend you could have standing next to you before a no-nonsense New Mexico judge, didn’t shoulder the burden of anonymity lightly. Not to give too much of the farm away (I’m going to act as if those acres of attorney-client privileges still apply, even if they don’t), but I had life-preserving reasons for renovating my existence.
So let’s lay down a little list of possible motivations any dear reader might have for following Mr. Low Profile’s winding path to the sensibly khaki-clad life of an average civilian.
There are plenty of reasons to walk (or sprint) away from an established “you,” and although necessary, some of those reasons are unpleasant.
A disappearance at times begins as an “accident.” You might recall some version of a news story that goes something like this: Miss Jane Doe ventured out for a drive on a winding mountain road on a cold winter’s night. Alas, something—presumably fog and ice—prevented the lovely Miss Doe from arriving at her destination. Worst-case scenarios are often crafted by a sprinkle of pessimism and a dose of common sense. Customary earnest and hurried searches ensue, but Miss Doe has become a ghost of the mountain, at one with the mist in the pines.
Most likely, Miss Doe’s car will be recovered from a river a couple years later, her skeletal remains still sensibly seat-belted in place, phalanges yet clutching that “World’s Greatest Auntie!” travel mug that never quite fit its holder. It’s grim, but more commonplace than it should be. Bad things happen to good people, and there’s not always someone in the forest to hear the sound of the tree falling. But as often as legitimate accidents occur, there are also plenty of “accidents” orchestrated by folks who are desperate to win the ultimate game of hide-and-seek.
No matter the circumstances, let’s assume you need a brand-new bag. You, of your own volition, have chosen to make a change.
Getting off the grid is not for the half-hearted. Even the fully hearted might find this process intimidating. That’s why it’s normally—if such a thing is ever entirely normal—within the purview of feds and spies. If the government decides you’re a pivotal witness in a federal case, you’ll be masterfully transitioned right the hell out of your old life and into an untraceable new one. Intelligence services are the million-point “ASS” top score on the Centipede machine-style champs at this kind of thing.
Here’s an example: a few years ago, a guy called Mahmoud was assassinated in a Dubai hotel. He was involved in some military operations far from the Israeli stamp of approval. Sure enough, the couple dozen suspects in Mahmoud’s death were allegedly Israeli intelligence agents. They’d managed to acquire stolen British, Irish, German, French, and Aussie identification documents. The case remains unsolved because those intel agents (or whoever they were) vanished into the ether with their purloined passports.
There will be times here when it will feel like we’re talking about spycraft; some of the behaviors required by this leaving-the-grid thing are fantastically furtive. Though you won’t be assassinating anyone in Dubai. I hope.
To be crystal clear—and this is my inner counselor talking—this stuff isn’t exactly all that legal, in the end. There may be gray areas, but generally it’s safe to assume that the things we’re discussing would not be recommended by our pals who live to protect and serve.
There’s a big “but!” here. Dodging many of the obligations an intentional disappearance leaves behind may create a sticky wicket or two as far as the law’s concerned, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it when and where the proverbial rubber meets the road.
Sometimes you’ve got to look out for numero uno. The following is a selection of motivations (appreciated but not necessarily endorsed by the former Saul Goodman) for jumping ship to the desert, the forest, or even the fine shores of the Missouri River:
• Escaping violence. Easily one of the strongest bases to light out for the provinces is the natural desire to get the hell away from some abusive buffoon. It’s unnatural and unadvised to ignore pure survival instinct. While physical vengeance may seem more gratifying and perhaps simpler, it is by far the messier option. If anything here helps get someone out, out, and away from a sadistic prick, a savage clown, a nasty sociopath, a human skid mark, etc., I’ll consider my mission accomplished.
• Letting your wild passion decide. When it comes to reasons for giving everyone who knows you the slip, escaping into the arms of your soul mate—über-bestie, side nugget, whatever the kids say now—is one of the most complicated of the bunch. You know the phrase “Hell hath no fury”? If you’re reading up on ways to hightail it out of a marriage to get with the most desirable new stranger imaginable, just be aware that few are more motivated to find you and make you explain what you did than a jilted lover. It’s not your fault that you’ve got such a magnetic personality! But think of the broken hearts that you’re leaving in your wake as little paper clips: they’re going to go chasing right after your attractive iron heart, and it won’t be easy to repel them. So maybe save yourself the hassle and—instead of disappearing—go about ending things in a more straightforward way if you can? Then grab your new sweetie and move one town over—you probably won’t get burned by any old flames at your new local grocery store.
• Dodging debts. Although I think skipping out on financial obligation is a semi-decent reason to dissolve your current existence, it sets you up for failure. There’s a basic, inalienable desire among creditors of all kinds—the legal and the illegal—to hunt debtors down and make them pay. The law circumscribes a plethora of above-board action that creditors can take these days, but that hasn’t quelled their Old Testament–style rage when the amount owed is massive and the borrower is missing. As we’ll see, personal vanishing acts are costly enough without collectors in pursuit.
With the legal kind of creditor, you may be able to get away with a few basic adjustments: changing your name, home address, and social security number might do the trick. Unfortunately, lenders can leverage the courts to send the law after you by filing suits that require you to appear in court. Some state laws are more aggressive than others. No show at court? A warrant goes out, and blammo! You’re wanted. That said—they aren’t high-priority warrants, unless you incurred a seriously huge debt and handled things in a suspicious way. On the flip side, there are illegal debts, which are another subject entirely. That leads me to…
• Bad guys want to get you. You’ve heard tell of federal witness protection. There’s many a true-crime miniseries about getting away from the tentacles of the cartel or the mob or the mystery book of the month club. Within all that drama and glamour is a rare but bare necessity.…