Green Desert - Chapter 6.4.1 - Irézí

I shouldered past the kid in shorts and circled the crashed aircraft. The woman deputy stood on the frame, holding up the blood-covered pilot. He suddenly fell, knocking the woman over, flying through the air with a gurgled yelp, and landed with a sickening thud right in front of me.

He groaned––a deep sob of death––and slumped down even lower to the dirt. The woman deputy stared at me. I smiled––number one, pleased-to-meet-you. She shot me daggers and jumped to the pilot’s side.
“Míkoízo, are you okay?” She rolled him over onto his back, a hand on his shoulder.

Past her, still in the helicopter, the copilot hung sideways from his seat, his neck bent against the crimson ground at an unnatural angle. Dead. Surely dead, or else the woman would be helping him.
I stepped around the two living cops, my eyes fixed on the dead man’s slack face. Besides the blood, he looked at peace, restful. Like somehow having his spine snapped didn’t hurt at all.

As the two cops blocked my view, my earpiece burped with static. “Irézí, are you still there?” Míro, back in the van. I should be talking. I should be reporting.

I circled for a better view. “Yeah.” I held up the microphone. “Yeah, I’m still here. Sorry.” The blood coursed through the sand, expanding its territory. “I just. . .”

“I’ve patched together some of Nıléké’s clips and what you’ve said. We’re going to go live in fifty seconds. I’ll cue you. Okay?”