3
- 3 -
It was cool under the trees, almost cold, and that was good. It helped keep him alert. It forced him to keep moving.
There were tracks through the undergrowth, flattened paths showing bare ground between thick tree trunks and tangled undergrowth. Rodin instantly spied a bush he recognised, berries showing as black dots amongst thorns. Barrackberry—that name sounded right. He picked a few, popping them into his mouth, enjoying the sweetness as he burst through their skin. He picked more, walking on with a handful, eating slowly, wanting to savour the experience.
But he was ready to drop them in an instant. Although the trees were not tight, they still restricted his view. Rodin was aware of the sounds he made through the undergrowth, and he stored that as background ambiance,
