Green Desert - Chapter 6.3.1 - Séara

Who was piloting? Míkoízo? Zhadé? Who else was inside? I rushed around the nosecone and stuttered to a halt at the sight of shattered glass strewn across the rocky sand.

Inside. Look inside.

Through the broken windshield, I saw limp bodies. The pilot––it was Míkoízo––hung from his harness, arms dangling down towards the copilot, who I didn’t recognize. Blood streamed down Míkoízo’s face from gashes on his forehead and cheek. The copilot lay against the crumpled side of the cockpit––now on the ground. His gun was drawn, still clutched in his immobile hand. Had he fired? Surely the second shot had hit the helicopter, bringing it down, but––

Focus.

I stepped forward and reached through the broken window. Míkoízo’s dark skin felt warm, but I couldn’t find a pulse on his neck. He was dead. No, wait. There it was. About fifty beats per minute.

Footsteps behind me. “Are they alive?” Bhanar. Always helpful, always useless.

“The pilot is.”

I knelt and reached for the copilot’s neck. His head rested at an awkward angle, but I didn’t want to move him in case his spine was injured. Blood pooled in the sand and glass around his head. I sort of recognized his face. His uniform said “Sémıtagaré.” A pulse, yes. “The copilot, too.” But I didn’t know how much longer.

Míkoízo groaned and lifted his arm.