A solid wall of fire blocked the first 600 feet of the trail that ran to the hill, and they had to detour more than a hundred yards into the woods. Machines and men crashed by them on all sides, hurrying in the opposite direction. As they neared the hill, they ran into Lukas.
“Where are you boys going?” he asked breathlessly.
“We’re supposed to make sure that everybody gets out safely,” Sandy told him.
“You’re wasting your time,” the Canadian said. “All my men are accounted for. We’ve lost her for good this time. She’s crowned and running fast on both flanks.”
“We’d better check anyway,” Sandy insisted.
“Don’t get caught on that hill,” Lukas warned them. “In another twenty minutes, the flanks will close and she’ll be cut off.”
“We’ll be careful,” Sandy promised. “Come on, Jerry.”
They ran on for another quarter of a mile without encountering anyone else. As they came abreast of the hill, Sandy stopped. Ahead of them was an impenetrable curtain of smoke, and beyond it they could hear the unmistakable crackle of flames.
“We’d better turn back,” Sandy said grimly. “If anyone is up there, they’re finished anyway.”
Jerry did an about-face without breaking step. “All you rabbits get out of the way and make room for somebody who can really run,” he bellowed.