The track they were following sloped slightly upward, and a change in
the wind brought to them a sour odor, blanking out all normal scents.
Ashe halted so suddenly that Ross almost plowed into him. But he was
alerted by the older man's attitude.
Something had been burned! Ross drew in a deep lungful of the smell and
then wished that he had not. It was wood--burned wood--and something
else. Since this was not possibly normal, he was prepared for the way
Ashe melted into cover in the brush.
They worked their way, sometimes crawling on their bellies, through the
wet stands of dead grass, taking full advantage of all cover. They
crouched at the top of the hill while Ashe parted the prickly branches
of an evergreen bush to make them a window.
The black patch left by the fire, which had come from a ruin above, had
spread downhill on the opposite side of the valley. Charred posts still
stood like lone teeth in a skull to mark what must have once been one of
the stockade walls of a post.
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