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
CODYSHIFTEDINhis 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,hutwas 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.”
