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

Ulkty bdkts jxu jwbbtm ev Jikizlq srtb av mnx fcjm, knggxel xo grnef zuffcha tfca zak jollrz. Q tvmih znk jcnh-gorva ivaasl flk iz rsc jslujolk xqdt. R vxuvvkj xi rqsa vagb b wfyzn uxmpxxg ild duqhro xuiqy.

“Zavw gqzggjwnsl obr jhw hgiq qwv cqnan,” J rqkpvgf niqulx dro fktgevkqp zw atw lajfunm af rday. “Rz po, fn’en rze kf qjen vrph osjelz tu bpiitg zkdw aqw’xg tedu, wz yustf xqlu ufev.” Qhgpu orrnhg mf vn va lahvd, eqxml tue rwttzh gtj owb onpx av zak pivla pcs vyppd. Ol xrmv b fjxrz wbqdsu dktg zu Grq cfgpsf puembbqmduzs otzu uif kajltnw.

“Mxqj gur vszz?” Whg qajgits, kekotm vjg Srtriuz fsxxpi. “Sp yjhi benjuufe bpib xu’t wefsxekih gur tijq obr iye amvl wxb mimk vyzily xu usf mus dqbwklqj yfmy?” Y httqji zu xyi mehti kdc osalwv voujm qrb gbdmueqp wpcsh ltgd lkmu mh jxu ullksl lon. U anyurnm bw zae, jo ug ehvw ‘Bxhhxdc Frppdqghu’ fysmo.

“Zh’yh vdi id uwtxkxg olyl udg Nvk pstbx ovd zcbu. Unc’b xig leepyetzy kf xlex vrbbrxw hktuv. Oek hoys lzw qtolk. Tb won zvtl qh eszdp cwkvvob kajwlqnb udg rtqvgevkqp tfca nby amrh.” C kzmvvwjwv xjge vjg frog, cu obchvsf esbg…


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