While the Armorer struggled with the insects, Dean had turned his attention to the array of birds and mammals that populated the valley. It seemed that the shallow basin had become a haven for the local fauna, as ratlike creatures and squirrels with bushes three times the size of their shrunken bodies could be seen on the floor of the valley and in among the trees. They were keeping well out of the way of the large intruders in their territory, and from their behavior and large numbers, Dean felt it was safe to assume that there were no larger mammalian predators in the valley. Not that he was prepared to relax his own vigilance. If nothing else, the swooping birds that ducked and dived between the branches of the trees, picking insects from plant leaves and pulling ponderous, orange berries from vinelike growths, were a constant danger by their sheer disregard for anything that may get in their way. Certainly everyone in the line had cause to dodge an unconcerned feathered missile as the birds focused on their objective of feeding to the disregard of all else.
The shallow basin in which they found themselves stretched for approximately a quarter of a mile from the entrance of the redoubt to the horizon, which was the lip of a gentle incline that presumably led to a plain beyond. Perhaps the forestlike undergrowth stretched on indefinitely. At that stage it was impossible to tell. Ryan had picked a path that veered at a ten-degree angle from a straight line, as that seemed to be slightly less dense in growth than the alternatives.
Away to each side, and behind the outcrop that allowed entry to the redoubt, it seemed that the foliage was even more dense, with the trees forming in places a barrier even more impassable than the dense blanket of green broken by violent color. Ryan figured that the slightly less dense area in front of them was what remained of the old road to the redoubt. The fertile growth had obviously spread over it during the past century, but there was still enough dead ground caused by a road surface to slow that growth and leave it just spare enough to allow him to hack a way through. Not that a person could ever tell it had once been a road surface. There was no trace of macadam left beneath their feet, the rich soil having long since been churned up to the surface by the insistent pushing of plant and tree roots.
Progress along their self-made path was slow and punishing. The sickly-sweet scents and the humidity of being in among so many plants under such a sun, even under the shadow of the twisted trees, meant that they were dripping with sweat and breathing heavily within half an hour of leaving the redoubt. Mildred thought of the showers with their carefully regulated water temperature, and allowed herself a rueful smile. Business as usual, she figured.
Ryan kept on hacking at the growth, creating a path. The muscles on his arms bulged as particularly stubborn growths refused to budge, or he hit a knot in a tree branch. Taut whipcords stood out on his arms as he gritted his teeth, sweat running into his good eye and making it sting, the salt gathering to no effect in the empty socket beneath the patch over his right. He wondered if they should turn back, allowing himself a glimpse at the position of the sun in the sky. Even though they had taken their time from the old chrons down in the redoubt, and those had told them that it was still early in the morning, there was no guarantee that they had been correct. The last thing he wanted was to have his people caught in the middle of such a jungle when night fell.
The sun was almost dead center in the sky, which was probably why it was so hot. But at least it told him that the old chrons had been accurate, and that they had plenty of time to reach the edge of the valley before nightfall, even at this appallingly slow rate. Time enough to scout over the lip and see what lay beyond.