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Show Flying - 90 "Nobody knows," says Wilberforce. "Some animal, I suppose. Only there aren't any animals in Southern Arizona big enough to do it. And an animal would have eaten at least part of the bodies, but they weren't touched. And they never found the heads." He laughs. "There's some rational explanation, of course. And they tell a lot of lies out in this part of the country." But John Henry is not reassured. The mountains look dark and evil, and he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. A little later than the lieutenant predicted, between Gila Bend and Sentinel, they catch up to the convoy. The jeep comes around a corner made blind by a dip and they find the big trucks pulled off on the right side of the road. They roll by slowly and park at the head of the line. John Henry pisses in the warm sand then gets under the jeep to take a look at the transmission, which seemed to be running hot and making more noise than usual the last few miles. Wilberforce, his map tucked under his arm, is off to find the Battalion Commander. John Henry finds that the transmission is smoking hot, but then why shouldn't it be? It's about a hundred and ten in the shade, and they've been running at full speed ever since they left Tucson. Maybe it's perfectly normal for it to be that hot. Or maybe it's getting ready to lock up |