20
“They throw a hell of an impromptu party, bro.”
“Damn straight, dude,” Duane agreed with him.
The four of them lounged on a broad boulder along the flowing river. It was pleasantly sun-warmed, now that the sun had slid behind the jungle canopy. Evening would be falling soon.
Duane had laid some breaching charges on the second excavator—after Sofia had finished tearing up the other equipment with it. And now, in the light of the late afternoon, its fire was finally dying down as well.
He’d expected the miners to be pissed at all of the destruction, but it had turned out not. Most were little better than slaves, dragged in from farming, forestry, or simply having lives. The few who were miners by choice had always run small operations that didn’t run by large machinery or use poisono
