Safe Passage: Dying Light by Clay Wise

Safe Passage: Dying Light by Clay Wise

Author:Clay Wise [Wise, Clay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4165726710
Published: 2022-09-28T16:00:00+00:00


By the time we make it back to the other side of the bridge, Avah and Stasia are pulling the boat up onto a sand bank. We walk over to where Gino is sitting on the little picnic table, holding the shotgun pointed at the two Prophets standing a few feet away.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Oh yeah. Nice and quiet,” he says, glancing at the two men.

“Good. Let’s get them down to the river,” I say before pulling the pistol out of my belt. “Let’s move.”

I wave the gun at them, and they start walking, keeping their heads down and mouths shut. We scramble down the hill to the sandbar, where Avah and Stasia are waiting by the little boat.

“What are you going to do with us?” the smaller of the two men asks.

“We’re going to let you go,” I say.

“Let us go?”

“Yeah. We’re going to put you both in the boat and push you out into the river, and it will take you downstream.”

“Are you going to untie us?” the second man asks.

“We weren’t planning on it.”

“You can’t do that. You might as well just kill us,” he says, and Stasia steps up to him, and even though she’s nearly a foot shorter than they are, they both freeze in place and stare at her.

“That can be arranged,” she says, glaring at them.

“You have a choice. Get in the boat and go, far, far away and never come back...or we can do what you just suggested,” I say.

“We’ll go in the boat,” the bigger one says.

“Good choice,” I say, waving them toward the boat again.

Avah steps out into the river and holds the boat in place while the two Prophets climb in with some difficulty due to their hands being tied behind their backs. Once they’re in, I look at Gino.

“Tie their feet,” I say to him, and he nods, takes the rope we had retrieved from the truck, and begins binding the feet of the men.

“If we fall overboard, we’ll drown,” the second man drowns.

“Then you probably shouldn’t fall overboard,” Stasia says.

His shoulders slump, and he seems to resign himself to everything happening. I reach into my pocket and retrieve one of the little pocketknives we found at the old hardware store, and I toss it into the bottom of the boat. Heather loads in two small plastic shopping bags containing a couple of bottles of water, some wild mushrooms, and three apples we picked earlier in the morning.

“You can use that knife to cut your ropes,” I say. “I wouldn’t recommend trying it until you’re back on dry land, though.”

Stasia steps up to the side of the boat and leans in slightly, and once again, even though she’s only an eleven-year-old girl, the two much larger men are obviously afraid of her.

“I told your other companions the same thing I’m going to tell you. Don’t think about coming back here. If I—or anyone in town—see you ever again, we will kill you. Do you understand?”

They both nod, and she takes a step back before speaking again.



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