ThirtyWilf tied the bag with some string, putting it next to the bike. He looked at the track that led to Fingles. The tide was dropping. They were ready to go. “We must make tracks,” he said to Jessie and Mima. The two women hugged Wilf briefly, before heading over to one of the other houses.
Jake walked out of the main building, clicking his backpack into place. “Is it time to go?”
“Yes. It's time. How long will it take to get there on this thing?” Wilf sat, slapping the saddle.
Jake checked his analogue divers watch. It was almost seven. He could see that the sky was growing dim. “Two hours or so, which doesn't mean much I know. It will be dark by the time we get there, which means they will be awake. You sure about this?”
“I am. Let's go,” Wilf said with authority.
They made their
