You mean a Holiday Inn?' 'Fluke, Fluke -' 'Listen, if we try to stay the night here, we'll end up staying the winter.' 'Oh, come on, man, they have to send a snow plough, don't they? Surely? At some point?' 'At some point?' repeated Kelso. He shook his head. And there would have been another row if, just then, they hadn't rounded a curve and seen, above the snow-topped trees, a smudge of smoke. O'Brien stood in the doorway of the Toyota, leaning on the roof, staring ahead through his binoculars. It looked as if there might be a settlement of some sort, he said, about half a mile off the road, along a rough track. He slipped back behind the wheel. 'Let's take a look.' The passage through the trees was like a tunnel, barely wide enough for a single vehicle, and O'Brian drove down it slowly. The branches clawed at them, slapping the windscreen, raking the sides of the car. The track worsened. They rocked sharply - hard left, hard right - and suddenly the Toyota plunged forwards and Kelso was thrown at the windscreen; only the seat belt saved him.
