Ballard raised his voice. ‘Arthur, come here for a minute.’
Arthur Pye, who was trying to question one of the survivors and not getting very far, straightened up and walked to the desk. His face was haggard and his movements stiff, but there was that spark of intelligence and comprehension in his eyes which was missing from most of the others.
Ballard said, ‘What’s the score, Arthur? How many missing?’
‘God, I don’t know.’ Pye wiped his face with a big hand. ‘How could anyone know?’
‘Then make a guess. I have to tell Christchurch something.’
‘It’s bloody hard getting anything out of anybody.’ Pye hesitated. ‘All right — say three hundred and fifty.’
Rusch stiffened. ‘That many!’
Pye waved his hand. ‘You’ve seen the town — or what’s left of it. They’re still drifting in, one or two at a time. I reckon the final tally will be very much less.’
McGill said, ‘The ones who are coming in now are the lucky ones. There’ll be others who are buried.’
‘Come on, Mike,’ said Rusch. ‘Let’s start looking. Our radio man is fixing up the transmitter, Mr Ballard. If you want to contact me use his walkie-talkie.’
Rusch and McGill left the church and Ballard looked up at Pye. ‘Are you sure about the number?’
‘Of course I’m not sure,’ said Pye wearily. ‘But it’s about that. I think John Peterson bought it. Mary Rees says she saw him run out into the street just before the avalanche hit.’
One of the Americans walked up the central aisle unreeling wire from a drum. He stopped in front of the desk and said, ‘CPO Laird, sir. I’ve got the radio set up outside; it’s better there because of the antenna. But I have a portable handset you can use here. It’s two-way — you use it like an ordinary telephone.’ He put the handset on the desk and plugged it in.
Ballard looked down at the telephone. ‘Who will I be talking to?’
‘Communications centre, Operation Deep Freeze. I’ve just been talking to them.’
Ballard took a deep breath and stretched out his hand. ‘Hello, this is Ballard in Hukahoronui. Can you put me through to Civil Defence Headquarters? It’s in the Reserve Bank Building, Hereford Str—’
A calm voice cut in. ‘No need for that, Mr Ballard. They’re on the line now.’
Twenty-six
Rusch, McGill and two of the American servicemen crunched across the snow over the desolation that was Hukahoronui. McGill took off his glove and bent to feel the texture of the snow. ‘It’s hardening,’ he said, and straightened up. ‘I was training some guys in snow rescue before we got hit. I said then they’d be no good, and I was right. You know what’s worrying me right now?’
‘What?’ asked Rusch.
‘We’re going to get a lot of people flying in here if Ballard does his stuff — maybe several hundreds.’ McGill nodded to the west slope. ‘I’m worried that she’ll come down again. That would really compound this disaster.’
‘Is it likely?’
‘There’s still a lot of snow up there, so I think only half of it came down, sliding on a hoar frost surface. I’d like to take a look.’
The man behind Rusch touched his arm. ‘Sir.’
‘What is it, Cotton?’
‘Look at that dog, sir. It’s sniffing at something in the snow.’
They looked to where Cotton pointed and saw an Alsatian pawing at the snow and whining. ‘Maybe it’s not trained,’ said McGill. ‘But it’s the best we’ve got.’
As they approached, the dog looked up at them and wagged its tail — and then scraped at the snow with its forepaw. ‘Good dog,’ said Rusch. ‘Cotton, use that shovel.’
Cotton found the body beneath three feet of snow and Rusch checked the pulse. ‘This one is gone. Let’s get him out.’
They pulled the body from the snow and Rusch’s breath hissed from his lips. ‘What in the name of God happened to his face? Do you know him, Mike?’
‘His wife wouldn’t know him,’ said McGill bleakly. His face was pale.
The dog wagged its tail happily and trotted off across the snow, where it stopped and began to sniff and scratch again. ‘Cotton, you’re now the dog handler,’ said Rusch. ‘Harris, round up some able-bodied men and dig wherever that German shepherd scratches.’
McGill heard the familiar sound of skis hissing on snow and turned to see two men approaching. They stopped and the one in the lead pushed up his goggles. ‘What can I do to help?’ said Charlie Peterson.
McGill looked down at Charlie’s feet. ‘You can lend me your skis for a start. I’m going up the mountain.’
Miller pushed forward from behind Charlie and stared down at the body. ‘Christ!’ he said. ‘What happened to him?’ A retching sound came from him and he turned and vomited helplessly.
The body did not seem to worry Charlie. He looked down, and said, ‘It’s Rawson. What happened to him?’
‘How do you know who it is?’ asked Rusch. ‘The guy’s got no face.’
Charlie pointed. ‘He lost the first joint of the little finger of his left hand.’ He looked up at McGill. ‘Take Miller’s skis. I’ll come with you.’
‘That slope’s not the safest place in the world, Charlie.’
Charlie grinned crookedly. ‘You can get killed crossing the road. I said that before, didn’t I?’
McGill gave Charlie a level stare, then made up his mind.
‘Okay. Help me get them off him. He’s in no condition to do it himself.’
Five minutes later Rusch watched them go. He looked up at the slope and frowned. It wasn’t a job he would fancy doing. ‘Sir!’ called Cotton urgently. ‘We’ve got another one — alive and female.’
Rusch strode over. ‘Be careful with that shovel, Harris. Cotton, bring up that empty sled.’
The limp body of Liz Peterson was lifted on to the sled and covered warmly with a blanket. Rusch looked down at her. ‘Lovely girl,’ he commented. ‘Take her to the church. We’ve just started to earn our pay.’
The Canterbury Provincial Chamber was very quiet as Lieutenant-Commander Rusch gave his evidence, although there had been a shocked whisper as he described the finding of Rawson’s body.
‘The dog was a big help in that first hour, sir,’ said Rusch. ‘He found three victims, two of whom were alive. But then he lost interest. I think he was tired — the snow was very deep and hard to get through, and maybe his scent was failing. He wasn’t a trained animal, anyway.’
‘Did you find out whom the dog belonged to?’ asked Harrison.
‘His name was Victor and he belonged to the Scanlon family. There were no survivors from the Scanlon family.’
‘I hope Victor has found a good home.’
‘I believe he has, sir. Miss Peterson is looking after him.’
Harrison looked across the room towards the Petersons’ table. He smiled at Liz Peterson and nodded. ‘Most appropriate,’ he commented. He consulted his watch. ‘Our next evidence deals with the activities of the Civil Defence authorities. As it is getting late in the afternoon this hearing will adjourn until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.’
He turned to Rusch. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant-Commander. It only remains for me to thank you and your comrades for a job well done.’
The hard-bitten Rusch actually blushed.
Twenty-seven
‘Listening to that evidence gave me a cold grue all over again,’ said McGill. ‘I was too busy at the time to think about it much, but when you get it all laid out then it really hits you.’