Crawling the last few yards to the fork, Bob studied the small fire the soldiers had started to heat the pot of stew that would be their supper. No matter what angle he took, Bob could not find a body anywhere near the fire or in the small opening the soldiers were huddled in. There was no deep drop-off for another quarter mile, so they couldn't have thrown her body over. Did she make it to the fork before the first group of soldiers made it there and decide to take her chances on up the trail? Moving on his belly, Bob worked his way through the few trees lining the left side of the trail, and in the darkness he smelled the sweat and blood of the soldier a split second before his hand slightly brushed the soldier's sticky blood pooling on the ground. Freezing his hand and body in place, Bob swung his eyes slowly from left to right and back again until he could make out the figure of the soldier and see the large gaping wound in his neck. Another smell suddenly filled his nose and his heart sank; the perfume Kelly wore filled his senses. Moving only his eyes, he tried to pierce the darkness where he knew his daughter had to be but he could not find her. Finally he swept his eyes to the very fringe of the light coming from their fire. He knew if he looked directly at the fire his night vision would be obliterated for at least sixty seconds, and sixty seconds could be the difference between life and death. Bob found nothing on the right side of the fire and slowly moved down and back up to the left of the fire. That was when he saw her!
