It was not as
refreshing as a real drink, but it helped. "You said Ashe is out of his
head. What do we do for him, and what are your plans?"
"We have to reach the river, somehow. It drains to the sea, and at its
mouth we are supposed to make contact with the sub."
The proposal sounded impossible to Ross, but so many impossible things
had happened lately he was willing to go along with the idea--as long as
he could. Gathering up more snow, he stuffed it into his mouth before he
followed the already disappearing McNeil.
CHAPTER 14
"... that's my half of it. The rest of it you know." Ross held his hands
close to the small fire sheltered in the pit he had helped dig and
flexed his cold-numbed fingers in the warmth.
From across the handful of flames Ashe's eyes, too bright in a
fever-flushed face, watched him demandingly. The fugitives had taken
cover in an angle where the massed remains of an old avalanche provided
a cave-pocket. McNeil was off scouting in the gray drizzle of the day,
and their escape from the village was now some forty-eight hours behind
them.
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