The people on both sides rushed forward to help, trying to lift the vines higher, pull them over the car roof, and let the vehicle pass smoothly.
Others held up their shields or gripped their guns, ready for any enemy troops that might suddenly jump out.
Dane and his crew, who'd already sneaked back through the jungle, squatted down again at the bottom of the slope, using the thicket as cover, watching Team Red make fools of themselves with cold amusement.
Bama, after listening to Dane's rant, couldn't help casting him a glance, as if to say: You sure didn't think this way yesterday.
"Smack!" Dane slapped him on the forehead, reminding him to reorganize his facial expression.
"..."
