Eddie crashed to a heap beside him, swearing under his breath as he reached for his own weapon.Henry was a hundred yards away, crouched against a shallow bank, just a smudge of green against the dirty snow. His hand was raised, palm out, which meant hed spotted something in front of him. Donnie checked his watch, blowing frost from the glass face to see that it was just after midnight. Theyd been walking for nearly three hours now, which put them roughly nine miles off the front and still following Cuddys tracks.He glanced over his shoulder to see Mike crouched against a tree nursing his Garand, his jaw flexing relentlessly as he chowed down on some gum.Hold here, he whispered to Eddie. He bolted as quietly as possible to Henry, skidding down beside him in a storm of white powder. What is it, Private?Hell if I know, Henry said, pure Mississippi. But somethins moving up there.Donnie eased his head up over the bank to see the same forestthe same trees, the same snow, as if they were walking along an endless, changeless Möbius strip.
