Carmelita had never known such crushing darkness.
When her awareness returned to her, there was a terrible stretch of uncomprehending blankness where she didn't even realise she was awake. After all, though her eyes were open, she saw nothing.
But as her other senses returned, so did the knowledge that she was conscious. Had she woken from a dream? Was she lying in her dark hotel room, bracing for the long journey to-?
Venezuela. Ramírez. The mine.
The explosion.
Carmelita may have been a rookie, but she had no doubts about what she heard. That sound, that monstrous all-consuming noise, could only have been the detonation of explosives. If not military-grade, certainly industrial strength. Enough to…
Enough to collapse an entire network of tunnels.
It came to her all at once, in a singular moment of terrible clarity. Somehow, she knew exactly what happened. El Diablo had known they were coming; that they would enter this mine, on this day. Once they did, he had the whole thing come down on their heads.
How many people were working down here? How many locals, unaware of the mine's full story - or aware, but lacking the luxury of other options?
How many had gotten out? How many had…?
"R-" Her voice caught in her throat. It felt like her entire face was coated in dust, which didn't bode well for her lungs. She coughed, hard, and tried again. "Ramírez?!"
The mine was as silent as it was dark.
"Inspector Ramírez, can you hear me? Can… can anyone hear me?"
Moments dragged past, one after another. Already, her sense of time was starting to fray.
"Edixon! Rosa! Miguel? Is… Can someone please just answer me?!"
There came the horrible realisation that she would never hear their voices, or anyone's voices, or anything at all. She would stay down here, in the dark, in a long stretch of wakefulness that would remain unbroken until it finally wound to an inevitable stop.
Or, more simply, the explosion had just rendered her deaf.
Carmelita had an uncomfortably long time to contemplate both of these possibilities
when,
finally,
she picked up a cough.
"Hello?" Her voice came out louder than she intended, filling the darkness. She was terrified that the sound she heard would die back down to nothing.
Instead, it strengthened, and after a few more dusty sounds of pain, solidified into words. "Ungh… Wh-what…?"
"Rosa. Rosa, are you awake?"
"Uh… Constable Fox?" The bubbliness had disappeared from the crocodile's voice. She sounded small. "Is that you?"
"It's me. We're both in the mine, Rosa. There was an explosion…"
There was another pause, and any pause was a terrifying prospect right now, but Carmelita gave Rosa time to process all this, just as she had. "I… think I remember. Where are the others? I think the Inspector was standing next to you…"
There was something almost childlike in the other woman's voice. Carmelita didn't know how to reply. She only knew she had to. "…You're the only person who's answered me."
"Oh."
For a while, that was all Carmelita heard. Eventually, though - her hearing made sharp by the total lack of light - she could make out another sound. Small, but the only thing down here apart from silence.
"…Rosa, are you crying?"
"I think we're going to die down here, Miss Fox."
There was no 'almost' any more. The scared, sad voice in the dark reminded Carmelita completely of a child. That cast her as the parent, or older sister, or something. Carmelita had never been good with kids, and apparently even slowly dying at the bottom of a sabotaged mine shaft wouldn't let her forget that.
Rosa was beyond words, now. She was just crying. Who wouldn't? Carmelita couldn't fault her fellow officer for losing her resolve. This was supposed to be a routine mission. Now they were alone at the bottom of a deep, dark hole, facing a slow death.
In that moment, she made the decision. She didn't know how, but Carmelita knew she was going to get out of this. And she would bring Rosa out with her.
The first step was to gather information. Assumptions were useless. Only the facts of the situation could help her now.
Carmelita felt around in the dark. The word 'fumble' came to her, and clung uncomfortably close. She pushed it away, assured herself of her own competence. If she allowed doubt to creep in, she was already dead.
"…You've been quiet. No comments to make?"
"What can I really say?" Sly's voice is serious. "I'm struck by how, well… You could've never gotten out of that mine. And that means I would have never met you. I wasn't even active at that point, not properly. My career would have started without you."
"Are you that surprised? The same is true of you. With the kind of criminals you've gone up against, you're as lucky to be alive as I am. That's just a fact about the circles we move in."
"Yeah, but…" He's frowning. He seems genuinely caught on this. "I didn't take things too seriously before meeting you. That was all a warm-up, more or less. Remember, I only went after the Five after getting the police file from your office. Me and the guys were sticking to small-time stuff before that."
"You'd call what you did to the Fire Stone of India 'small-time'…?"
"Well, maybe not at the time. But compared to what I've done since, sure."
His eyes wander for a moment, but they soon return to her.
"You're trying to get me off the subject. That isn't like you."
"I'm just trying to work out whether you want me to tell you a story or not. You keep interrupting."
There's nothing playful about that pause that follows. "…Was it seriously that bad?"
"No."
Compared to colourfully clownish criminals like the Cooper Gang, she's never thought herself as having much showmanship. But telling this story to such an invested listener is bringing out her sense of drama.
"It was worse."
"Okay. Okay…" She spoke everything aloud, and not just for Rosa's benefit. Anything that left her head was real, tangible. "I think a support beam fell right on top of me."
"O-oh no… That's…!"
"No, it's good. It's keeping most of the rocks off of me. I think, if I'm careful, I'll be able to get free."
She was all too aware that there was no plan after that. She ignored that fact. One thing at a time.
"What about you? Do you think you can get up?"
"…No."
"That's okay. I'll help you clear the rubble off, then we can-"
"N-no, Constable. I'm… I'm not sure I can stand up."
Carmelita forced herself to dwell on those words. Like it or not, this was information too. "Why not? Are you in pain? Where?"
"My back feels… kinda numb. I should be hurt really badly, right? But I can't feel anything. I-I'm worried that… What if I've been…?"
"Breathe, Rosa." Not an easy instruction to give in these circumstances. "Don't give in to panic just yet. I don't think I've been seriously injured - the same might be true for you."
She spoke steadily, certainly, as though trying to convince not just Rosa, but the rocks themselves.
"Try to move your feet. See what happens."
Part of her wished that she had a better bedside manner. She didn't sound soothing at all, more like a cop giving an order. That was all she could be.
It sounded like Rosa was complying, at least. She could hear sounds of effort from the darkness in front of her.
The silence dragged uncomfortably long, but Carmelita fought against the childlike instinct to fill the dark with words. Her patience was rewarded. "…O-okay. I think I can actually stand up, as long as you help me get all these rocks off."
"Okay. See? I told you."
"…Are… Can you do that?"
That was the next question, alright.
No - questions were useless, Carmelita told herself. Questions were vague and uncertain and too flexible. They bended. She needed to lay things out in hard, strong, firm lines. So she would.
"I'm going to take a minute to get myself out, first. Once I do, I'll help you. In the meantime, you should- Can you move your arms?"
"A little…"
"In the meantime, you should try to fix the flashlight on your helmet. Mine's definitely broken. We need light to get out of here."
"Um… okay…"
Her voice sounded so distant, dwarfed by the darkness. But she was only a few feet away. Another fact for Carmelita to remind herself of.
With that, she turned her attention to the rocks.
To say she wasn't in pain would have been a lie. (And Carmelita did not lie.) But it was also true that she had full control of her limbs, and didn't seem to be experiencing any of the symptoms of internal damage. She had gotten incredibly lucky. That luck was going to hold, because she was going to get herself out of this situation. Her and Rosa, and from there, anyone else she could help. It was going to be hard. It was going to hurt. But it was all perfectly possible, and she was going to do it.
She started with the small rocks, and worked her way through it.
She had to go purely by touch, of course. If a stone was small enough to move, she moved it. She was painfully aware that, working blindly like this, the whole thing could collapse on her at any moment and she'd have no warning. But that was no reason to stop. On the contrary, getting free was the only way to survive.
It was so hard to keep track of time in the darkness. She had no idea how long she spent digging herself loose, stone by stone. (She knew, exactly, how many rocks fell directly on her head in the process: thirteen. Mostly small enough to shake off. Mostly.)
Then, suddenly, the avalanche she had been bracing for. The rubble shifted completely, forcing her to curl up as quickly as she could.
Moments later, she was free.
Her efforts had paid off. The rocks had slid to either side, creating enough of a gap to pull herself loose. She seized this opportunity without celebrating it. For all she knew, there was nothing but solid rock between her and any exit.
The sound must have startled Rosa. She let out a yelp.
"I'm fine! I'm fine." This felt like a slight lie, given the overall context, but the bones were true: Carmelita was clearly injured, but not so much that she couldn't pull herself to her feet. Once she found what seemed to be the wall, she did just that.
She went slowly, in case there was less ceiling to work with than she remembered, but she was able to stand to her full height.
"Okay. Okay." Her voice still felt small in the darkness. "I'm up, Rosa. How are you doing?"
Rosa made a noise which did not indicate good things about her mental health. But reacting at all meant there was still some physical health left to protect. Carmelita had to focus on one thing at a time, here.
"Um. Good job."
And hopefully sound a little more certain doing it.
Still using the wall, she found her way towards Rosa's voice. "How about the flashlight? Were you able to-"
"Agh!"
She tensed. "Rosa?!"
"…you kicked me in the nose."
"Oh." Carmelita needed to shift gears, mentally, so the words took a moment to form. "Uh! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
Stupid question. "The… My nose isn't, um, the main problem…"
Carmelita at least had enough deductive ability (and dignity as an investigator…) to realise that Rosa's head must have been at boot level. She lowered herself into a careful squat, feeling around gently. "I've got you. I'm right here, Rosa…"
She soon located not just Rosa herself, but her helmet. Her fingertip found broken glass, and for a few terrible moments it seemed that the darkness had won a total victory over them. But Rosa had made progress, despite everything, and with a few more adjustments light suddenly exploded back into their world.
Rosa looked bad.
Carmelita didn't exactly have a full view, since like herself, Rosa had been caught under a heavy pile of thick, black rocks. Her helmet had taken the brunt of the impact on her head, but the rest of her…
Well. She was in one piece. With a hospital visit and sufficient medical attention, she would be fine. It was just a matter of getting her there. 'Just'.
"I'm going to start removing the rocks, now that I can see what I'm doing." Carmelita hoped that her blunt, certain words were helpful. "Help me if you can. If not, just hold tight."
"R-right…"
Rosa lay still for a while, letting Carmelita work. At first it seemed she wasn't able to help, raising worrying questions about how - or whether - Carmelita would get her to the surface. After her body was more free, though, she rallied a little. Working together, they cleared away enough rocks for her to get loose.
"Okay. Okay. Okay…"
"Try leaning on the wall to help you stand," said Carmelita. "That worked for me."
It took a worryingly long time, but Rosa got back onto her feet. She pawed at a mass of shattered plastic hanging from her neck that Carmelita needed a moment to even recognise. "My camera…"
"Don't focus on that. It goes without saying that the mission isn't…"
Carmelita had no idea how to phrase this tactfully. Then she reminded herself that tact wasn't going to get them to safety.
"Forget the mission. Our only priority is to get out of here. Got it?"
"Yeah," said Rosa, bleeding and miserable.
"There's no time to waste. We've gotten lucky as it is - the ceiling could still be unstable. Let's get going."
All of that, of course, glossed over the very real, very likely possibility that they wouldn't make it even a few metres without hitting an impassive, impassible pile of rocks.
As it happened, they hit rocks immediately. Carmelita just didn't let them stop her.
She knew that the most probable outcome of such a large, intentional blast was a total collapse of the tunnels. Both of them should have been dead already, and pockets like this were no doubt rare in such an old, poorly maintained mine. They were here in the first place because safety protocols were being ignored!
But she found a deep well of useful, willful ignorance, bluntly disregarding the reality of the situation. She dug at every pile of rocks she came across until she could get past it. Then she kept digging until Rosa could follow her.
It didn't take long for Rosa to start fidgeting. Carmelita was surprised she had the energy to fidget at all, considering she had to keep leaning against the wall to stay upright. "Um… You don't…"
Carmelita ignored her at first. It felt a little cruel, but clearing a path demanded her energy.
"Miss Fox, you're… a lot smaller than I am. It'd be easier for you to just-"
"Rosa." Already, Carmelita's entire body hurt. "If you see or hear something useful, like any sign of the others, tell me. But otherwise, stay quiet."
She could feel those big, sad eyes aimed at her back, but Rosa didn't even mumble again for… Well. Time had disappeared for the most part after the blast. The important thing was that she didn't make any silly suggestions Carmelita had no intention of humouring.
There were no clocks. Carmelita's watch had been shattered like her flashlight, and she had no qualms about discarding it once it began digging too much into the flesh of her wrist. That was the only way she could tell the passage of time: the steady but definite decline of her own body, as her stubborn determination fought to keep the pain from overwhelming her. The longer she pawed at these endless piles of rubble, the harder that became, as fatigue crawled through her ever faster.
The only sound, aside from her efforts, was Rosa's low and unsteady breathing. "…Do you think anyone else made it out?"
"I don't know." Frankly, she didn't want to dwell on it. There were few silver linings here, but at least the tiring work of shifting rocks was keeping her distracted.
"I… I don't hear anyone else."
"Me neither."
"José and Edixon… and Miguel…" Rosa's voice was quiet, but it filled the heavy air. "They weren't that far away from us."
"I know."
"So, by now… Shouldn't we have…?"
Carmelita's voice was even quieter. "I know."
The rocks offered no answers. It was almost better that way.
Long and listless as it was, they were making progress. That's how it seemed, at least. Carmelita knew they weren't in the same 'room' they had started in. In fact, she soon realised she wasn't confident she could navigate back that way even if she wanted to. Then came the realisation that, with no landmarks, she couldn't even be sure they were heading back to the surface. She hadn't gotten turned around, had she? She wasn't using the last dregs of her strength, the limited energy reserves of their flashlight and her body alike, just to trap them even further underground…?
It was a dizzying thought. One she had to grit her teeth and ignore. This was a tunnel. There were only two directions: up, or down. She was going up. She had to be.
Just as it seemed that Rosa was going to slip back into unconsciousness, they caught a glimpse of sunlight.
Carmelita was surprised, and an unhelpful amount of that surprise was wrapped up in what time it was. Between passing out and her seemingly endless task of burrowing, she had expected it to be nighttime. Maybe an entire day had passed. Or a month.
It didn't matter. Her disoriented thoughts were quickly marshalled by the central truth.
"Rosa, look! We aren't going to die in this d-!"
Then she fell unconscious. With due emphasis on the 'fell'.
Had Rosa tilted in the other direction, everything could have ended there. Carmelita genuinely might not have had the strength to catch her properly. Instead, with the gentlest sigh, she leant against the wall and just kept going, puddling onto the dirty ground.
"Rosa!" It came out as an angry hiss. She knew it was unfair, but frankly, Carmelita was angry. To get this far only to lose Rosa now would have just been cruel. "Rosa, are you-?"
She found herself unable to finish the sentence. That was rare for her, and a sign of how much of a toll all of this had taken on her already.
Mercifully, Rosa's eyes flickered open. "I'm fine," she said, as unconvincing as that sounded. "I just…"
"What?"
"I don't know if I can keep standing up. By myself, I mean…"
Carmelita was forced to suddenly revisit the prospect of supporting Rosa's weight. Not for the few moments it would take to prevent either of them getting injured; for as long as it took to carry her to someplace safe.
She could feel her muscles screaming in protest already.
"You…" Rosa frowned, her face twisted. "It'd probably be better if you left by yourself."
"No," she said.
"M-Miss Fox! You already wasted…" Rosa cut herself off as a wave of pain evidently rolled through her. But despite her worsening condition, she had found her voice. "…wasted enough time trying to get me out of this mine. You should have gone alone from the start."
It was a matter of basic tactics. A single, (largely) uninjured person could cover much more ground, quickly and quietly. Whatever came next would require back-up, and that meant getting to someplace with a phone. Clinging too hard to noble ideas of 'no-one left behind' was just liable to get them both killed.
"No," she said again, more firmly.
Keeping an eye on that shaft of dim sunlight, as though it might disappear if she looked away, she knelt next to Rosa and put her shoulder to the taller girl's armpit.
"We're both getting out of here," she huffed, "because that's what Ramírez would want. Alright? I'm an Interpol agent, and I'm going to damn well act like one."
"Wow."
"I know. It was a risky play. Stubborn to the point of recklessness. But I couldn't stomach the thought of leaving her there."
"Oh, of course. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
"…then what was the 'wow' for?"
"Hearing you say 'damn'. That's a curse word, Carmelita."
"Be quiet."
"Aren't you afraid that, with language that salty, you'll be danged straight to heck?"
"Come on, Sly. This is a dramatic part."
"It is… Sorry, go right ahead."
Rosa made a few more weak protests, but Carmelita wasn't hearing them. A rational part of her mind characterised this whole thing as bloody-minded foolishness, a deadly case of sunk cost fallacy. But her decision was made. She was supposed to provide this team with support. She would do exactly that, or die trying.
First, they dug through the final pile of rocks barring their way. Rosa did her best to help - even in her weakened state, her hands were simply larger and stronger than Carmelita's. Once the gap was big enough, Carmelita helped her through, then quickly climbed through herself, knowing Rosa could only stand unaided for seconds at a time.
"Is this the only entrance?" She scanned the slope leading to freedom. "It's clear from the rocks that no-one else has come out this way… so that means…"
"Miss Fox? Did… Did you say something?"
"Just muttering to myself," she said. "Let's get you up this incline. Almost there, come on."
She once more tried to bluff reality. By setting her jaw and pretending that Rosa was not, in fact, a huge and heavy crocodile with far too much weight for her to reasonably carry up a slope in her current state, she tried to simply stride past the blunt facts without making eye contact. It didn't quite work, her traitorous bones far too quick to complain. But she succeeded in slowly, carefully, helping Rosa toward the surface.
If only that had been the end of things.
Carmelita didn't know what she had been expecting. Perhaps a squad of sympathetic Interpol medics who somehow knew to be here, ready to take Rosa's weight from her shoulders, ready to bundle her in a blanket to safety, commending her and calming her and assuring her that rescue teams were working to get the others out - no, they were already out, she and Rosa were the last ones, Ramírez waiting for them both with that same expression of steady certainty he always wore-
The fantasy did not survive contact with sunlight.
Even before they left the darkness of the mine, the silence was crushing. It had been so busy when they had first arrived. Now, as Carmelita limped toward the main entrance, she could hear nothing.
That meant that every tiny gasp of pain from Rosa felt like it echoed through the entire jungle.
"Can you-" She caught herself, knowing that her voice was coming out too much like another hiss. "…Rosa. I know it hurts. But try to be quiet, please."
"What? Why? There's no-one up here…"
Carmelita's voice was grim. "Exactly."
There should have been workers. There should have been at least a fraction of the crowd they had seen on their way in. Instead, the air was still. Carmelita knew exactly what kind of silence this was: the silence of someone lying in wait.
She whispered to Rosa, low and urgent, as clearly as she could. "I'm going to put you down. Just for a second. Can you sit here quietly until I come back?"
"Please do."
Carmelita blinked. "What?"
"Please come back." Rosa was whispering too, but it didn't seem to be an intentional matching of Carmelita's tone. She was just capable of little else. "I don't want to be alone out here…"
"I… I will." It was a stark reminder that it wasn't just her own life on the line. "I promise."
Rosa didn't seem to fully believe her. It wasn't like she had much of a choice.
Keeping low to the ground - and ignoring how her body ached with every movement - she crept out of the mine and looked around.
Exactly as predicted, the entire entrance area was deserted. It was almost eerie. It had been so busy when they passed through earlier, the ground torn up by the ceaseless, constant motion of countless feet. Now all that was left were the footprints.
That, and an empty helicopter.
The door to Hugo's prize possession hung open. At this distance, Carmelita couldn't make out any other details, but she didn't need to. The scene came to her vividly enough.
She couldn't smell any blood, at least. Whatever happened to Hugo couldn't have been good, but he probably hadn't been killed right here. Probably.
Either way, he was gone. All that was left of this operation were two heavily injured women. This whole thing had totally collapsed.
Reminding herself with a wince to avoid thinking about the word 'collapse' again, Carmelita returned her attention to her surroundings.
For a few moments, everything was still. She began to wonder if her earlier inkling had been baseless. But she couldn't discard her intuition so quickly. It was the only thing she had left.
With her eyes failing her, she closed them, and let her nose take charge instead. Mostly, she smelled mud, and rocks, and the fading scent of miserable workers.
…Then, smoke. Fire. A hint of actively burning tobacco.
Someone was outside this recently collapsed mine, enjoying a cigar.
Carmelita clenched her teeth, partly in rage and partly in concentration. She couldn't see this person, or even tell if they were alone. She knew it couldn't be Hugo - he would have taken his helicopter and gone for help. Any normal, compassionate person would do the exact same. That meant that whoever would just stand around out here… waiting, perhaps, for someone to emerge from the entrance…
She would have gritted her teeth harder, if she could. All that effort to get out of the mine, only to be overpowered by the one guard El Diablo had left here. It was beyond words!
Carmelita wasn't one for words anyway. This called for action.
Staying low, she moved as silently as she could with every joint in her body constantly reminding her of her injuries. If she couldn't move quickly - and evidently, she couldn't - that only left stealth. She was so coated in dirt and dust that she probably blended in with the surroundings. Hopefully.
That also interfered with her sense of smell, to the point she began to worry if she could truly rely on it. But by focusing on that hint of tobacco, she was able to zero in on the unseen guard.
It was coming from one of the ramshackle buildings awkwardly strewn near the mine entrance. In their earlier examination, it had given the impression of an office, with a creaky desk and a variety of messy papers that Ramírez had declined to examine in any depth. Time for that later, he had said.
The waft of smoke trailing through the open door was as understated as a whisper, but it was there.
Carmelita's hand went to the baton that still clung to her belt. Like her, it had survived until now. But the moment her fingers closed around it, it became obvious that she was in no shape to use it.
From her hand to her shoulder, and beyond, she ached. A single kick would have been enough to knock her over in this condition. She badly needed help. At minimum, a rest. She couldn't assume she was getting either.
She forced herself to take a breath - silently, of course - and catalogued what options she did have. If this person was supposed to be keeping vigil on the mine on behalf of El Diablo, then clearly, she had emerged when they were taking a break. Otherwise, she would already be dead.
Carmelita did not smoke, but she knew that the term 'smoke break' did not connote a long stretch of time.
Combat was ruled out, and stealth wasn't her forte. She doubted she could haul Rosa through this open area with the necessary speed. The abandoned helicopter seemed to taunt her. It would have been the ideal way to get both herself and Rosa to someplace safe, where they could recover and regroup. If only she had finished her flight certification!
…All she knew was the basics. Like how to start it.
It was not a plan that fit within her usual mindset. But it was clear that she was going to need to improvise. One of the few advantages she had was that her enemies didn't even know she was still alive, much less her exact performance report from Interpol's flight school.
She crept up to the helicopter, the door still hanging open. Unlike the practice model back at Sleuth Academy, there was no key system to deter overzealous students. All she had to do was run through the start-up sequence.
Once she was sure of herself, she crept back to the mine. Rosa was still there, still breathing. She watched Carmelita with a hopeless expression.
"Is… there anyone out there?"
"Yes."
Her tone was as harsh as ever. Rosa cringed. "But not… someone we want to see…"
"No."
Carmelita eased her back into a standing position, propping her weight against the mine wall. Even that much took effort, but there was no other choice; this would all take precise timing. An annoying voice in her mind reminded her that they were probably going to instantly die anyway. But she had to make the attempt, on principle at least.
"I have a plan." It was a bad plan, but she didn't need to worry Rosa with details like that. "On my mark, we're going to head for the treeline as fast as we can. I know it'll be hard, but once we're out of sight we can slow down a little, alright?"
"Uh… Which direction are we going?"
"Whatever's fastest."
Rosa opened her mouth, and then closed it again. There was a lot going unsaid in this conversation.
"Are you ready, Rosa?"
"No…"
"Too bad," she said, hoping that at least some sympathy was clear beneath her severity. "Because we're going now."
Rosa made a quiet noise that Carmelita was forced to take as assent. At any moment, that sentinel could simply finish his smoke break and wander right up to them.
First, she got Rosa as close to the lip of the mine entrance as she could, leaning her against the cavern wall. She was probably visible, but no shout of alarm came. Carmelita didn't press her luck - she ran, as quickly and silently as her bruised body could manage, up to the helicopter.
She had one last fleeting fantasy of loading Rosa into it and just flying all the way to Caracas. Safety and medical attention via the quickest route. It was a tempting image, but she rebutted it with one just as vivid - getting unceremoniously shot as she struggled to work out the arcane, personalised rituals Hugo used to convince this rusty thing to get airborne.
She gunned the engine, and then ran.
The rotors roared to life immediately, drowning out all other sound. She wouldn't hear that shout of alarm. She wouldn't hear a gun cocking…
Carmelita didn't dare look to the guard's post. She moved with grim, stubborn momentum, the way she always tried to. In seconds, she was back with Rosa, pulling her off the wall and towards the trees as fast as either of them could go. Rosa said something that she absolutely didn't make out. She kept them both moving.
It was suddenly so, so obvious that this whole area was too open. Much too open. It was a mine entrance! All the nearby trees had been cleared long ago! What had she been thinking?!
The decision was made. She kept going, dragging Rosa metre by metre, inch by inch, toward their pathetically unlikely chance for refuge.
Carmelita, unable to fully control herself, risked a glance over her shoulder. But perhaps it hadn't been simple fear. Given the timing, her ears might have made a connection before her brain did.
The guard had, indeed, exited the small office, no doubt the moment the helicopter had shattered the silence. But he wasn't shooting. She couldn't even get a clear look at him - only a glimpse of a tall frame and feline features - which presumably cut both ways. He wasn't looking in their direction.
Carmelita had only meant to start the helicopter. She must have nudged the stick, or something, because it had not stayed still.
Hugo's pride and joy had lilted to one side, slowly at first but building a surprising momentum. In the half-minute since Carmelita had started it, it had already started to careen along the ground, a massive projectile of rusty black metal.
The leopard stood aside and watched as, with an unspeakable sound, helicopter met cabin in an explosion of glass and splinters.
"Well! Uh. That's… cool."
"You're trying to say that in a sarcastic tone, because part of you knows you have to. But you do genuinely think it's cool, don't you?"
"…Yes."
"And you're disappointed that you weren't there, during this terrifying moment where I was very nearly killed, so you could see it happen yourself?"
"Well… a little."
"You're more like Murray than you let on, you know."
"Taking that as a compliment."
Whatever else, it was one hell of a distraction. Carmelita set her jaw and tightened her grip on Rosa and closed those final, miserable metres to the treeline.
Her plan had worked better than she imagined… at the cost of an escape route she was too nervous to try anyway. Despite the fact that leopard threatened their lives, the idea she had almost ended his, by accident, made her a bit queasy. Or perhaps that was just fatigue, already catching up to her…
As they reached the darkness of the trees, Carmelita tried to banish such thoughts - all thoughts - from her mind. There was only the jungle. There was only the mission; not the one she had come for, but the new task of getting herself and Rosa away from here. Her companion had already gone quiet.
Step by step, they left the deathly mine behind.