Blogtober 2020 Day 20 Entry
Phin, who had been arrested more times than he could remember since he was ten years old, fell asleep as the wagon rolled eastward. Murphy kept going over the details of Meadow’s plan, making sure he wouldn’t forget some crucial step, even though it was mostly out of his hands.
The deputies ignored them, as they were clearly just a couple of kids. That wouldn’t save them from the noose, of course—murder is murder even if you didn’t pull the trigger—but neither one of them looked to be a threat to escape.
They camped at twilight, and the dim sunset gave way to flashes of lightning in the distance. The rumble of thunder grew louder by the minute, and before they had time to prepare, rain poured down so hard all they could hear was the roar of water.
The deputies rushed to pitch a tent, and they chained the boys under the wagon, looping their wrists through the spokes of the wheel. They tried to sleep, but the roar of thunder and rain deafened their ears, and their clothes were soaked with mud and water.
The storm subsided by morning, but the rain continued, and the wagon moved slower along the muddy road. Phin took pleasure in watching their guards get soaked alongside them, and the morning rain helped wash away the mud.
“The hell you grinning at, kid?” the deputy said.
“Nothing much,” Phin said. “I like the rain. I like that you’re in it, too.”
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