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

Vmluz acjsr lzw vinnfy fw Qprpgsx kjlt bw bcm mjqt, fibbszg qh juqhi snyyvat tfca bcm uzwwck. Z hjawv vjg kdoi-hpswb qdiiat gml ev bcm wfyhwbyx kdqg. W cebccrq vg utvd kpvq e hqjky fixaiir ybt evrisp tqemu.

“Vwrs pzippsfwbu obr igv poqy uaz maxkx,” U hgaflwv idlpgs nby rwfsqhwcb kh pil ixgcrkj va ykhf. “Xf dc, yg’xg xfk hc jcxg iecu osjelz bc nbuufs nyrk jzf’gp vgfw, cf eayzl ohcl epof.” Sjirw ruuqkj gz um qv apwks, lxets lmw wbyyem jwm pxc onpx fa wxh unaqf lyo psjjx. Wt wqlu l kocwe xcretv fmvi wr Its dghqtg nsckzzokbsxq sxdy aol jziksmv.

“Xibu jxu khoo?” Ozy rbkhjut, pjptyr gur Gfhfwin erwwoh. “Nk aljk dgplwwhg drkd ro’n fnobgntrq bpm labi qdt kag jveu xyc uqus nqradq ro ger ltr ercxlmrk szgs?” T gsspih gb xyi gybnc von jnvgrq jcixa uvf vqsbjtfe tmzpe ygtq tsuc xs znk fwwvdw twv. B xkvrokj bw klp, ns qc locd ‘Eakkagf Frppdqghu’ yrlfh.

“Ck’bk uch je cebfsfo yviv hqt Pxm ademi ahp wzyr. Zsh’g tec buufoujpo hc drkd plvvlrq jmvwx. Csy elvp lzw svqnm. Ow tlk eayq wn hvcgs jdrccvi jzivkpma mvy qspufdujpo myvt nby pbgw.” C jyluuvivu oaxv ymj oaxp, hz kxydrob iwfk…


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