They drove on in silence. Hours went by. Rolling through a mountain pass now, with tall sheer crags either side from which rock slides had here and there half blocked the way ahead with huge boulders and uprooted trees. Negotiating this terrain took every ounce of concentration, and after a while Ben took over from Wolf at the wheel. The pass was curving slightly west, its looming walls forcing them a few degrees off their intended course while the road, if a never-ending rubble field could be called a road, grew steadily narrower, in places too narrow to get turned around. If a patrol were to appear up ahead, they would be blocked off with no choice but to stand and fight, almost certainly against impossible odds.

But then after a few more kilometres, the road finally emerged from the pass and the crags either side fell away to more open ground. ‘Thank Christ for that,’ Wolf said. ‘Getting a touch claustrophobic back there.’

‘Best recce the way,’ Ben said, and once again they halted and climbed down from the vehicle to scout ahead a distance on foot before continuing. That was when Ben spotted the column of smoke several kilometres away to the west, climbing thick and dark into the sky from behind a dip before it was caught and dispersed by the wind.

‘What’s up with that, do you reckon?’ asked Wolf, frowning.

‘It accounts for the gunfire we heard earlier,’ Ben said.

As they crouched among the rocks watching, they were joined by Holt. ‘I think we should steer clear,’ he told them. ‘Could be a spat between rival tribes. Happens all the time in these parts, right? Not our business.’

‘Or it could be there are people down there who need help,’ Ben said.

‘I think he’s right, Chris,’ Wolf said. ‘I think we should check it out.’

‘It’ll take us even more out of our way.’

‘Not by more than an hour or so,’ Wolf reasoned. Holt wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but he relented. ‘Okay, but if things turn to dogshit it’ll be on you.’