Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

were folded in prayer. All of them were looking at the ground.
    “What in the …?” said Ronald. “Why are they walking like that?”
    “Who?” asked Winky, pushing aside some leaves that were in her way.
    “Those guys with the prayer-hands,” I said. “In the middle, kind of.”
    I looked at Winky in time to see her eyes widen.
    “Slaves,” she said in a whisper.
    “What?” I asked, looking back. “Slaves? Where?”
    “She’s right,” said Ronald. “They have their hands tied, and they’re all strung up together, in a line. See?” He nodded his head in their direction.
    “I can’t see any rope, but it sure looks like that’s what’s going on,” I said. “This is not good. Not good at all. Maybe they’re not slaves. Maybe they’re the food.”
    “Regardless, it’s bad news. What’re we gonna do?” asked Winky.
    “We’ve got to do something ,” said Ronald.
    “We do?” I asked, looking to them for confirmation. Deep down I knew the answer, but I so wanted to be able to just walk away and mind my own business for a change. I was already worried about taking care of the people we had with us now. I glanced over at Bodo, sleeping now in the grass with his mouth hanging open, his pitiful bald, white head practically glowing with sweat, and I shook my head at our chances of success.
    “Yeah, we do,” said Winky. “But not all of us. And not out here in the open.”
    “You have a plan already?” asked Ronald.
    “Yep. We wait for them to go to sleep, sneak in, take the slaves out, bring them with us, take off for the prison, make it there by tomorrow. And pray they don’t wake up in the middle of the rescue.”
    “Dang, you’re good,” said Ronald, smiling. “I appreciate your positive outlook in the face of these odds.”
    “Thank you,” she said, grinning back. “No one ever got anywhere thinking negatively.”
    “I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Ronald. “My daddy always used to say something similar. Think positive, act positive, be positive. He always said that you become what you think about most of the time, so you need to think good things to be a good person.”
    “Your dad sounded like my kinda guy,” said Winky. “So are you in, or are you going to stay behind with Peter?”
    He shrugged. “I’ll go.”
    “I think it’s better if he stays behind,” I said. “No offense, Ronald, but Peter and Bodo need someone watching over them, and Winky and I are going in for sure. Plus, Winky’s the quietest one of all of us, so if anyone’s going to be able to sneak past those guys, it’ll be her.”
    Ronald shrugged. “No skin off my back. I just want to help any way I can. If I can avoid being killed at the same time, well, that’s just a bonus.” He flashed his super-white teeth at us.
    “Okay. That’s the plan, then. Thanks, Winky.”
    “My pleasure. When do you want to do it?”
    “When it’s dark. We were going to stop anyway, right? Might as well set up camp here while we wait. Maybe they won’t go far.”
    Winky frowned. “Okay, well, at some point I need to get back up to the road and put the symbol down for Rob and Fohi.”
    “You don’t need to do it during the day,” said Ronald. “We can keep any eye out for them now ourselves and go get them if they come by.”
    “They’re going to be riding right into this group. That’s what worries me,” I said.
    “You don’t think those canner guys or slavedrivers will stop here on the highway in the middle of the day, do you?” asked Winky.
    “No, probably not,” I said, searching my mind for the options they might choose from. “If I were a canner, or a slavedriver, were would I go hang out?”
    “If you were bold as brass and marching down the middle of the road with slaves in tow?” asked Jamal, coming over to join us.
    “Exactly,” I said, not coming up with any answers.
    Everyone remained silent for a few seconds, mulling over our dilemma. Finally, Ronald spoke.
    “If I were a highwayman bandit with slaves who look as tired as those ones do, I’d stop in a nice piece of shade where they would have a hard time getting away, and I’d be able to take a nap.”
    We looked around the immediate area, since Ronald’s assessment of the slaves seemed to be pretty right-on. One of them had just tripped and looked like he was having a hard time getting up.
    “Problem,” said Winky.
    “What?” I asked.
    “After we rescue them, how the heck are we going to get them all the