描述
Denzel drives deep into the woods. The Dodge slithers to a muddy halt. Harry’s out fast throwing his bag over his shoulder. Denzel grabs his stuff, they crunch and slip through uneven woodland. Gnarled shapes come towards their eyes in the narrow torch beams. Pine needles like a carpet make it easier, holes, burrows and roots don’t. They stumble and run. Ivy and tangled shit hang down like nets. Some branches are down. Thin beams flash side to side. They race on without a system. Running on instinct along tracks that wild beasts have made.
