"Given what happened ta the trees, I think lookin' ta find anything left over of anyone this was actually aimed at is maybe a bit optimistic." Says th'dep'ty, soundin' right gloomy.

"Human body's harder t'burn'n y'might think." I says, lookin' 'round. "Chances are we'd see somma th'big bones...leg, skull, hip, 'at sorta thin'...mebbe th'heart too, though some critter mighta carried'at off. Jes'd 'spect t'see some trace, y'know? Rather'n nothin'."

Then'e mutters somethin' I almost don't catch. "Not Donner, then."

'course'e says'at right when'm lightin' up a cig, an'I end up spittin't out onta th'grass. "Good fuck no!" I says, gaspin'. "Who'n Christ's name'd want that fucker back?"