Mountain of Lies

Chapter 7

The pilot was dead. The rotors were mangled and broken, and the nose of the helicopter had been forced into the cab. The pilot had managed to extricate himself from the twisted metal but had only made it to the edge of the clearing where he'd taken shelter on the far side of a wide spreading tree. "Might have been worried it would blow," Hudson said, draping the man's jacket over his face.

The thought had occurred to Mia as well, and she sniffed the air. She thought she could pick up a slight chemical smell under the driving rain, and Neville had gotten a snoot-full when he was sniffing the ground around the helicopter and sneezed explosively for the next minute and a half. "That danger has passed, right?"

Hudson nodded, head down over the pilot's identification. "Pretty much. As long as we don't cause a spark, we're fine."

"Sparks. Right."

He glanced up at her and gave her a slight smile. "The rain helps."

"Sure." The rain had been "helping" them for hours now. Any benefit they'd garnered from their time in the way hut was long gone. She was soaked to the skin and she made a squelching noise with every step she took.

Hudson patted his pocket and got to his feet. "Okay, let's see if we can get to the cargo."

"Without making a spark."

"Exactly."

They did a circuit of the downed aircraft and then Hudson stepped cautiously into the cockpit through the same gashed metal opening the pilot had used to get out.

"Be careful." The words were out before Mia gave them any thought.

Hudson's only response was an absentminded nod as he looked for places to put his hands and feet. He'd borrowed a pair of gloves from Mia to avoid leaving prints, but her hands were half the size of his and the gloves had formed his hands into knitted paws. He ducked and twisted, but couldn't work his way between the jammed-together seats in the cockpit. He backed out and started to circle the helicopter again.

Mia swallowed. Hudson was huge. She was small. It made sense for her to be the one to go in.

She held out her hand. "Give me the gloves."

He peeled them off and handed them to her. "You sure? No one said anything about there being a co-pilot or other passengers, but..."

Hudson's hands had stretched out the gloves and they bagged over her hands. She shrugged. "I'll take the chance." If she found anyone, she'd just have to pretend they were a moose or bear. Wildlife biology was not casualty-free, and she'd learnt how to deal with that over the years. A human corpse wasn't really that different, just more...people-shaped.

She'd hesitated at the cockpit and Hudson put a light hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to. I can find another way in—or make one."

She gave herself a few seconds of comfort, leaning back into his warm, soggy bulk. Nev bumped his head up under her hand and she found a smile for him. She straightened. "No sparks, remember?"

Hudson steadied her for the first awkward steps, and then she was in. She ignored the dark splotches among the mangled metal. It was just fluids from the equipment, nothing to worry about. The space in the cockpit was tight and the seats canted together at the top, like drunken movie goers, but they held when she tested them and she was able to twist herself over the headrests. There was a screeching, groaning noise as she landed behind the seats and the helicopter tilted farther toward the ground.

"Mia!"

"I'm fine!" she called back. She sniffed the air. No change, no indications she was about to evaporate into a fireball that would set the whole mountain alight. She braced her feet at an unnatural angle where the floor met the sides of the helicopter and made her way farther back. Anything not bolted down had shifted during the crash, and each footstep involved carefully working her foot under the layer of debris.