“Possibly there was a deer trail somewhere, but I hadn’t a clue where to start looking.“We go around, right?” Chuck tried to brush the rainwater off his face but it was coming down too hard for it to make any difference.“No, we go up.”“But.…” Chuck gazed up the trunks of the few trees that weren’t buried in wicked vines. They were leafless and looked dead.“We’ll lose too much time if we go around and if we do there may not be any way to cross. And if we can shake these assholes here, we are home... free. Seven Forks and Anatoli’s cabin are only a quarter mile away.”“Okay.” Chuck, bless him, didn’t argue. He gave me a leg up and I appreciated it. Climbing in wet denim was harder than you can imagine. We made it to the first branches relatively free of briars and then started across the gorge. Chuck usually has a thing about heights but he seemed fine, perhaps because he couldn’t see how far down the ground really was. I spent my time praying that the limbs hadn’t rotted.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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