6
Scout strolled down the road that was the center of the marketplace for over the hundredth time, hands buried deep in her pockets and eyes on the toes of her canvas high-tops. The dogs had found an interesting smell in one of the buildings. She could hear the sound of them sniffing hard, Gert occasionally whining in her frustration at never finding an actual critter no matter what scent trail she followed.
They had probably found the remains of another squatter camp. About half of the storefronts near the hallway to the hangar showed signs of being camped in. Mostly it was just empty jolo bottles and the scorch marks left behind by ill-advised attempts at building an indoor campfire. Sometimes there were empty trays left behind from long-ago-eaten MREs. Those the dogs ripped to shreds,
