The avalanche ended like a slammed door.
Half the mountain lay smooth and hard, a white sheet drawn over its own face. The other half was ripped and dirty where rocks came through. The air felt hollow, like sound had been scraped out of it.
Drones circled above the camp. Their rotors buzzed, lights casting slow halos over tents and equipment. Search beams crawled up the slope and fell away in the drifting snow. Someone had dragged a line of body bags to the lee side, black shapes turning gray as powder settled.
Hikari sat on a crate with a blanket around her shoulders and didn't feel it. Her hands were clean. That looked wrong. A medic kept trying to press a cup into them. She didn't take it.
