CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Chris helped me to my feet. With him following, I slid down the stream bank again. I led him to the low-hanging, twisted tree roots that had attracted my attention and lifted them aside. He reeled back at the odor and the flies. “Good God!” he said, swatting wildly.
“Take a look with your flashlight,” I said. “See the barrels? I think we have a problem here.”
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