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
