by Freida Marie Crump
Greetin’s from the Ridge.
It was just after midnight when the final fugitive ducked behind the city truck garage. "Where’s Richard?"
"He’s too afraid to come out. He thinks they’re watching him."
Every Monday night for nearly six months the little band of renegades had been meeting in their clandestine spot in the most remote part of the city park behind the Slip and Slide. It