“Gold Clash” is a fast-paced tale of action and intrigue that is sure to entertain.
Keep reading for a glimpse of what’s in store for you in “Gold Clash.”
Clay lay on his back with his raw feet set in the water, his toesdigging into the cool, soft mud. He closed his eyes for a moment.
His breathing slowed as he inhaled through his nose and exhaledout his mouth. For the first time since daybreak, his feet didn’t hurtand his head didn’t feel like it was ready to spontaneously combust.
Clay heard approaching footsteps but ignored them, content with hissoothing comfort.
“So, Clay, that’s pretty brave of you,” Jimmy said, breaking thesilence. Clay raised his hand to block the sun from his eyes as hepeeked at Jimmy. “You do realize that’s a lagoon, right?” Jimmyasked.
Clay squinted at Jimmy. “Pond . . . lagoon, I don’t really carewhat you call it. It feels gooood.”
“No, Clay. you don’t understand. It’s an old septic lagoon . . .you know, for sewage. There must have been an old house aroundhere at some point,” Jimmy said.
Clay’s eyes popped as he jumped to his feet. He danced, wiggled,and squirmed and then flung the frothy scum from his legs.
Jimmy backed away, his hands raised in front of his face to wardoff flying goo. “That’s cute. you look like a four-year-old waiting fora potty break.”
Clay lifted his shirt and wiped forcefully over his thin strip ofhair, attempting to remove any potential sewage remnants. He completedhis dance and wiped a clean area of his shirt across his lips onelast time and then spat.
Jimmy smiled at his young friend. “Well, you know what? Maybethat’s not a lagoon after all,” he said, peering into the pond thoughtfully.
“Nope, I was wrong. It’s okay, Clay . . . just a pond.”
“You little turd,” Clay began, glaring at Jimmy.
“No, the little turd is actually . . .” Jimmy started saying as hepointed behind Clay’s ear. “You want to get that? It’s kind of gross.”