Jeremy stopped looking for easy answers. There weren’t any. Not for him. Maybe the shaman had a point. His life would be less difficult if he didn’t fight.
“Fighting is a way,” he told him. The wise man smiled and nodded.
It is what brought him here tonight, his latest fight. The latest obstacle standing between him and success was fifty feet of bridge. Simple. Except the damn harvest moon illuminated the world brighter than a cloudless day at high noon.
Cables groaned and the planks spanning the abyss twisted, swaying in the wind. He couldn’t see them, but they were there. Eleven o’clock, at the ridge’s cleft where the tree line provided protection yet afforded a clear shot. It was the site he’d chose. Easy as shooting fish in a barrel.
“Why are we waiting?” his second asked.
“I figure we’ve got about a twenty-five percent chance of making it to the other side.”
“Better than zero.”
“I promised to keep you alive.”
“No, you said you would try. These last weeks, we’ve had more freedom than we’ve ever known. You’ve gotten us this far. Considering where we started, we have already won.” The faces behind him smiled and nodded.
Jeremy let his breath explode through his lips.
“We should wait.”
“We should let the devil dogs catch us?” An angel’s face confronted Jeremy.
“We knew the risks and made our choices. It is our only way. The question is… Are you ready?” she asked. Jeremy smiled and nodded.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Jo Hawk 