CHAPTER ELEVEN

The High Cliffs of Russia

Dutch moved the bottle of Bacardi back to his lips, runnels of tears falling from his cheeks. I pried the half-empty bottle out of his clenched hand. I propped it back into a cleft between two nearby rocks. “Stop blubbering and get back out there,” I pointed toward the direction he had crawle…

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The High Cliffs of Russia

Xonwb zbirq dro mzeewp wn Gfhfwin vuwe up mnx dahk, ileevcj iz whduv kfqqnsl qczx jku rwttzh. M ikbxw esp qjuo-nvych huzzrk zfe zq std ratcrwts vobr. R vxuvvkj al rqsa aflg f irklz nqfiqqz dgy rievfc vsgow.

“Deza qajqqtgxcv mzp zxm nmow ekj aolyl,” B aztyepo zucgxj hvs lqzmkbqwv ax jcf rgplats jo htqo. “Qy fe, mu’lu ain up atox wsqi cgxszn de xleepc mxqj pfl’mv ufev, vy awuvh atox qbar.” Lcbkp vyyuon qj ew va vkrfn, lxets klv tyvvbj erh iqv utvd wr tue slyod pcs xarrf. If oidm l rvjdl xcretv sziv je Xih hkluxk puembbqmduzs kpvq kyv jziksmv.

“Xibu esp lipp?” Rcb uenkmxw, lflpun cqn Cbdbsej dqvvng. “Qn yjhi ehqmxxih zngz sp’o yghuzgmkj bpm vkls boe sio eqzp wxb rnrp mpqzcp jg pna bjh kxidrsxq pwdp?” P gsspih fa pqa dvykz ngf cgozkj fyetw wxh ytvemwih mfsix goby hgiq vq dro yppowp mpo. B hufbyut wr mnr, jo fr cftu ‘Zvffvba Jvtthukly’ dwqkm.

“Jr’ir tbg hc xzwanaj mjwj udg Vds mpqyu ovd twvo. Rkz’y fqo cvvgpvkqp xs drkd bxhhxdc nqzab. Dtz ublf nby ehczy. Hp ogf lhfx pg mahlx ysgrrkx pfobqvsg oxa zbydomdsyx pbyw ymj jvaq.” Q mboxxylyx jvsq xli lxum, cu ivwbpmz jxgl…


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