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And now Halo had his answer. Brilliant Max had told him, oh so clearly, the scent source was alive in the bushes, and there was also someone who had died. It was Halo that hadn’t understood the communication.
“Good job, Maxi. Good find.” Halo tried to make his voice high-pitched and happy, but this winded him.
Halo pulled his sat phone out and took a picture of the deceased. Before he sent it on, he called Bob. Speaking through the haze of interference, he reported, “Halo here. I have a second find. Deceased gentleman in pajamas, robe, and slippers.”
“Say again, Halo? You’re breaking up with the cloud cover.”
“Elderly male. Pajamas, robe, and slippers. Picture sent. Deceased.”
“Breaking up. Confirm the word ‘deceased.’”
“Affirmative. The man is dead. Guessing from his clothing and age, he came from the care facility. Since they are together in the bush, I think one of the residents followed the other out the door and up the hill. They are both tangled in the vines. I suggest the facility do another census and ensure they account for all of their residents. We need to know if any other people are wandering this slope.”
“New resident census. Wilco. I’ll —” Static crackled from the phone, and heavy drops thwacked the plastic cover above Mrs. Haze. The line went dead.
“Good job, man, just in time.” Ridge appeared under the tarp. “She won’t let you near?”
“Confused and combative,” Halo said. “I don’t want her to exhaust herself further or cause herself any more harm.”
“She seems okay hugging Max. Let’s see if she’ll put up with Zeus at her back to get her temperature up.” Ridge dropped his pack and pulled out a fleece that he tugged on as he called Zeus to him. Ridge used hand commands to silently get Zeus into place, disturbing Mrs. Haze as little as possible. They needed her calm for this next step.
Ridge turned his focus on the male.
“I have the body bag out,” Halo said. “Since they treat civilian finds as crime scenes here, I wasn’t sure about protocol.” Halo lifted the bag.
Ridge accepted it from his hands and unzipped it the length. “We’re going to be all hands on deck getting Mrs. Haze off this slope. We need to prioritize the living over the dead. We’ll have to leave him here for a forensic team to evaluate and transport.” Ridge explained as he and Halo maneuvered the man’s body into the bag and zipped it shut. “At least we can preserve the body in as pristine condition as possible for the family. And the medical examiner.”
Ridge used his handheld GPS unit to put a point onto the screen, marking the man’s body for another team to extract once the mountain was stable. “When our team gets in place, we’re moving down this mountain as fast as possible. In the heavy rain and dropping temperatures, Mrs. Haze’s survival is going to depend on speed.
“Halo?” Ryder called out from outside of the tangle.
“Hold. We’re coming out,” Ridge replied.
Leaving the dogs in place, warming Mrs. Haze, the men crawled out from under the tarp. Rain flicking them with fat drops, they pulled on their ball caps and raincoats. They left their goggles in place for the moment to protect their eyes from the briers, but Halo knew that as temperatures went south, the lenses would fog very quickly, making them a hazard.
The team had gathered. Under the billowing clouds, the late morning sky grew ever darker. The men strapped their headlamps in place.
With the last man on site, they formed a huddle, heads together, yelling out their ideas as the wind whipped their words up and away.
“I spoke with Bob while we still had a satellite connection,” Ridge said. “As conditions continue to deteriorate, the State rescue coordinator sent the equine team home. The mountain rescue team won’t risk the slope until the storm’s moved through. We’re on our own.”
“They can read radar as well as we can,” Tripwire said. “They know the risks. I’m just as well with them staying put so the rescuers don’t need to save the rescuers.”
“Thoughts on sheltering in place?” Ridge asked the men.
Didit shook her head with a deep frown. “With the storm that’s coming in, it’s more than dropping temperatures and pelting rain. We could configure around that. Uncomfortably, sure. But we’re facing mud slides, high winds toppling dead trees, and possible flash flooding when we cross the creek. Staying put is a bad decision.”
“The amount of time I spent wrenching my ankles in the holes today needs to be a consideration, especially as the leaf litter gets slick,” Tripwire said.
So it wasn’t just me, Halo thought.
“We’re going to lose visibility here in a minute. This is what I propose,” Ridge said, pulling his all-weather field notebook from his chest pocket. “We’re a team of five handlers and 5 K9. That makes this scenario work. We number off.” He took a moment to sketch. “A two-person team rigs the length of our climbing lines from tree A to tree B. At the same time, we run lines between tree B to tree C. Tripwire, you’re one, Didit two, I’m three, Ryder four, and Halo, you’re five.”
“Five,” Halo said, watching the Ridge’s pencil trace over the waterproof paper.
“Number five will attach into the line and take the first length carrying Mrs. Haze. Once Number Two gets her line secured to Tree B, she attaches to the line and then climbs back up to Tree A. There, she will escort Number Five back down to Tree B. The escort's job is threefold. First, they will handle two K9s on lead. Second, they will be searching out any hazards—holes, roots, slick spots. These are to be communicated back to the carrier. Third, should the carrier lose their footing or need assistance, they are ready to render aid.”
“Sir,” Didit said. “Mrs. Haze is too frail for a fireman’s carry over rough terrain, especially for the extended period of time it’s going to take to get her down.”
