We assemble at the venue where it all began, go through our story, fitting together the pieces we can remember like a jigsaw. Although we knew it was extremely stupid and irresponsible, there was no denying the fact that it was the most exciting thing we had achieved all summer. Constructing our alibis occupies the majority of the day. Darkness begins to creep in on us like a quilt. I suggest spending the evening at my house, which is roughly three miles from the nearest civilization.
Distance gives the illusion of security.
We take the air rifle. No evidence must be left behind to incriminate us. We travel by an inconspicuous route rather than risk the roadway. The coastal path rises steeply from the cove. The rough terrain becomes taxing.