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“An air force without jets? You serious?”
“And our emblem is a kiwi, a flightless bird. Go figure.” She activated the radio. “I’m just going to call in.”
She spoke in clear, clipped shorthand. Phonetic call sign, position, altitude, direction, destination. Ahead, the last of the spring snow clung to the range’s shadowy folds, in denial about the blue dome that curved above.
“To be fair,” she said when she’d signed off, “all that Top Gun shit went out with the nineties. The future’s in drones, which doesn’t leave many options for real combat pilots. I’m not into that remote-control crap. If you don’t have the guts to go to a place you have no business blowing it up.”
“Where did you serve?”
“Samoa, the Philippines, hunting pirates in the Middle East... Took a bunch of scientists to Antarctica one summer. Mostly disaster relief and humanitarian missions, which is how it should be.”
“Word. Though they can cut you up as much as combat. Why did you leave?”
Silence. “We had a...family crisis. My koro—my grandfather—he’s lived in Wairoimata all his life, and he was struggling to get his head around it. And my brother and I needed to...get away. So we made a pact to come down here for a bit. Lie low, look out for Koro. Of course, Koro thinks it’s us who needed him. Didn’t mean to stay this long but it’s one of those places that sucks you in. Besides, now I have this monster to pay off.” She slid a hand across the top of the instrument panel. “So I’m here for a while, like it or not.”
He got the feeling she liked it okay. There was more to her story, but if she didn’t want to share, then all good. Who was he to pry? Happy families weren’t his thing, either, not anymore.
“I know a guy you might know,” he said. “Ex-legionnaire. Came to us from the New Zealand army.”
“Yeah, because I know everyone in this country. We all went to school together. Or is this more of a ‘You’re brown, he’s brown, so you must know each other’ kind of thing?”
“Hey, I’m just as brown as you.”
“So you should know better.”
He laughed. He was almost sad it was such a short flight.
Way below, the chopper’s long shadow flickered over green rock-strewn foothills, like some slimy black creature rolling and jerking over the land.
“Okay, Cowboy, what’s his name?” Tia asked, the words rushing out, like she’d been trying not to ask.
“Austin something. Austin Fale—Falelo...”
She quietly swore, a whisper in the headset. “Austin Faletolu. He used to date my brother. I hate that.”
“What, that he dated your brother?”
“No, that I know the random guy you’re talking about.”
“It happens a lot?”
“More than it should in a country this size.”
They fell silent, he in awe, as the landscape got wilder. Barely tamed farmland gave way to rainforest, and trees in turn succumbed to a desert of jagged rocks and brown tussock. Along the edge of the range, fresh landslides left plummeting scars of scoria. A country on the move, tossing and turning and refusing to settle into sleep.
Man, he felt alive. Anticipation churned in his stomach and his skin buzzed. Not a wired adrenaline, like the start of an operation, but a lightness, a freedom. Escape in T-minus ten.
“You have travel insurance, a will?” Tia asked.
Aaaand bubble burst.
CHAPTER TWO (#u12c5468c-ced7-5de2-909c-2cc98b7d3c48)
CODY SHIFTED IN his seat. “Yeah, I got a will.” His father’s lawyers had insisted on a succession plan for the business, though if they were smart they’d skip him. “But you think any insurer’s gonna give a reasonable quote for this?” He could fund an evacuation anyway. Or the repatriation of his remains. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you’re well paid for the search and rescue.”
They cleared the seam of the range and turned south. The view switched to black and white, a rocky alpine plateau with fog filling the basins and dips. Farther into the mountains the ground snow thickened from tattered lace to a sheet to a blanket. In a valley between two craggy peaks spread a blue-tinted tongue of ice. The glacier. No sign of climbers.
He zipped his jacket higher. It was high-tech but lightweight, like most of the clothes he carried. Tia turned west and the sunlight bounced off the glacier, into his eyes. He shut them until the burn passed. Shame he wasn’t getting on the water until 0600. He needed to blast off the nerves in his belly. He felt a nudge on his thigh. Tia pointed down. Carving around massive boulders was a river of milky turquoise, so vivid it seemed to glow.
“Estupendo,” he whispered.
“Indeed. The Awatapu.”
“Hell. I thought the photos on the web were doctored.”
“Nope. Cool, eh?”
Tia followed the river’s winding path. Final approach to Nowhere. As the altitude dropped, rock and snow yielded to tussock and thick khaki scrub. The river narrowed into boulder-strewn white-water corridors, flared into blue pools lipped with beaches of ashen stones, narrowed, flared, narrowed, flared, growing faster and wilder as more streams washed in. Man, he wanted a piece of that.
Tia navigated down into a clearing beside a red-roofed hut along the river, blond tussock flattening under them. If he’d closed his eyes he wouldn’t have sensed the moment of contact. She radioed in as she shut down. He pulled off his headset. As the blades whined to a halt and the engine’s white noise ceased, silence washed in. She stared at the hut. Well, hut was ambitious. More of a shed with a couple small windows and a chimney. Under a corrugated tin awning, a gray dish towel slumped from a rope. Could’ve been there months. Tia screwed up her face as she removed her headset. No sign of any missing tourists.
He spent the next ten minutes trying to equalize his ears as he helped Tia stash the kayaks under the awning. He could be imagining the rush of water over stones, but the bell-like bird chatter was real. The biting stench of avgas lifted, leaving the scent of clean air and distant snow. No better perfume.
She nodded at a craggy white peak in the distance. A bird of prey was riding a thermal. “A cold front is blowing up from Antarctica. You should be out before it hits, but if the weather turns, ride it out in the hut or your tent and I’ll check on you when it clears.”
“Sure thing.” Like hell.
“Because that river’s going to get high and fast superquick.”
Even better. “Noted. Thanks.”
She sighed, like she knew he was a lost cause. “Camp well above the water level—it can change quickly this time of year. Your best launchpad is down that track.”
The “track” she pointed to was a slight gap between the prickly shrubs circling the clearing. “The river meanders for about a kilometer. Then you get your first challenge with a nasty, narrow little rapid. After that a big tributary joins and it really gets wild and pretty much stays that way. But the worst part, the part that makes it grade six, is the Auripo Falls, which you’ll reach about midday tomorrow. Eighteen-meter drop—that’s sixty feet to you—underwater whirlpool that’ll hold you forever—”
“Yeah, I’ve read up on it, asked around. You’ve kayaked this river?”
“God, no. Just rescued enough people to know where they get unstuck. Or rather, stuck. I know it mostly by air—and my brother runs canyoning trips in the lower reaches in summer.”
“Jumping off waterfalls? And you call me a risk taker?”
Almost a smile. “He’s very safety-conscious.”
“Like you.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“So your brother jumps off waterfalls—and throws other people off them—and you call him safety-conscious. And I put only my own life on the line, and I’m a risk taker.”
“He knows what he’s doing. But yeah, once was enough for me. I’m happy just being his taxi driver.”
“You canyoned? I thought you were scared of heights.”
“Not heights, just falling, as every human should be. And it confirmed I was right to be afraid.”
“So you just drop his victims to their fates instead?”
“I figure if you’re determined to kill yourself, you’ll find a way. It might as well benefit me.” Her tone dropped just on the side of teasing. She wiped her hands on her thighs, like she was absolving herself of responsibility. “Right. That’s me out.”
“Last chance to talk me ’round.”
She raised her chin. “You want me to talk you around?”
“No.”
“Good. I could use another search and rescue contract to pay off the last one. Just make sure you die in a place I can easily spot from the air. And keep an eye out for those tourists. I don’t like the idea of them lying...” She rubbed her eyes, as if trying to erase a mental image.
“I’ll do that.”
“Get off the river well before dark each day. When the light drops you can’t see the snags.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That was a bit ‘no shit, Sherlock,’ wasn’t it?”
Man, she was so close to a real smile. If he just worked a little harder... “It’s nice that you care.”
“You have someone waiting for word of when you reach Wairoimata? Who can raise the alarm when you don’t show?”
“No, ma’am.”
Was she asking if he was single?
In your dreams, numbskull. Not that he was looking to hook up, but she’d be a fun vacation distraction.
“Got a mobile?” she said.
“Yep.”
“It won’t work until Wairoimata. You have my number—call me when you get out. If I don’t hear by Wednesday, I’ll start asking around.”
“Will do.”
“Got a distress beacon?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded to the kayak.
“A GPS one? Bought locally, not overseas?”
“Yep.”
“Keep it on you. It’s no use in your kayak if you get swept out. But don’t use it unless you’re dying. I don’t want to fight my way up here at midnight in a cyclone to find you twisted your ankle.”
“This happens?”
“Some people treat those things like Uber. If you can kayak out safely, do it. It’ll make a better war story to boast about later.”
“Noted.”
She gave a sharp nod and walked away. Security briefing over.
“Well, thanks,” he said.
Right. He checked his watch. A few hours before dark. He’d scout out the river, get sorted for the morning, then settle in with a freeze-dried dinner and his e-reader. He rubbed his belly. Food would fix that empty feeling. Damn, twenty minutes in her company and now he had to get reacquainted with solitude. Maybe when he called her from Wairoimata he’d ask her for a drink. Even a place that small had to have a watering hole.
“Hey, Cowboy,” she called.
He killed his smile and swiveled. She was leaning into the helicopter, writing something on a clipboard.
“You got insect repellent?”
“Don’t usually get bit. No malaria here, right?”
She looked up. “It’s not the mosquitoes you need to watch for. It’s the sandflies.”
“I need to watch out for a fly?”
“You’ll see.” She pulled a spray bottle from a bag on the rear seat and lobbed it. He caught it one-handed. “I’ll add it to the tab. Oh wait, you prepaid, didn’t you?”
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
“On the house, then. And watch out for wild pigs.”
“Pigs? For real? I fucking love this country. You’re saying the most dangerous wildlife out there is flies and pigs?” He was crossing into flirt territory, drawing this out as long as he could. He wasn’t even sure why.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. “Less Porky Pig and more a rhino crossed with a bull. I’ve seen boars up here twice your weight. There’s also stags but they won’t take you on unless you corner them. And chamois and tahr—wild goats—but the smell is the biggest danger there. At least they’re herbivores.”
“Unlike the sandflies?”
“Spoken like a guy who’s never stood beside a New Zealand river at dusk.” She pushed off the chopper. “And watch out for kea—big green parrots. Cheeky buggers. Don’t turn your back on your dinner.”
“Noted.” He stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his shorts. “Okay. Guess I’ll go look at this river of death, then.”
“Good luck.”
“I don’t intend luck to be a factor.”
She nodded, again with that almost-smile. He forced himself to turn and walk away. Seeing her again would be his reward for surviving this paddle.
