It was still a couple of hours before dark when they reached the edge of the small village. Robbie stopped in the middle of the road and killed the engine. A small trickle of smoke was rising from the brush ahead and dissipating quickly in the southerly breeze.
Robbie’s ears perked up when he heard the clanging of metal. He reached for his pistol. Goosebumps popped up on his arms. “Looks like there’s someone here,” Robbie whispered.
Hank, his eyes squinted and sharp, AR-15 squeezed tight in his hands, finger on the trigger, scanned the treeline for targets.
The metal clanged again.
“Sounds like someone is hammering on something, Hank. We’re upwind. If I start the engine, they may hear us. They may be able to smell the pig we cooked and already know we’re here. Stay here. I’m going to t
