Every Second

71

Coyote Mountains, New York

The small sneaker floated in the eddy among swirling foam tinged a pinkish red.

“I told you I got them-both of them!”

Percy held up Billy’s shoe for the others who were standing with him in a valley at the river’s edge. They looked at it, then looked downstream at the raging rapids, the rocks spearing the surface and spouts of white water.

“They’re dead,” Percy said.

“I say we go downriver and find the bodies to be sure,” Cutty said.

“We don’t have time. Look at this!” Percy held up Billy’s shoe again. “I hit them. See the blood in the water? No way they survived.”

“I agree. If they’re not dead they will be soon. Forget them. They’re done,” Jerricko said. “We don’t have time, we have to go!”

Vic took advantage of their location along the river and consulted his GPS compass. “We’re not far from the meeting point.” He looked up and down the river. “Our brother should be there waiting by the time we get there. We continue with the operation.” He adjusted his backpack and pointed his gun. “That way.”