'Those are red wolves and they're on a reserve down east, not in the mountains.'

'I suppose you're an expert on North Carolina wildlife.'

'How did they hold their tails?'

'What?'

'Did the animals hold their tails up or down?'

I had to think.

'Down.'

'A wolf holds its tail straight out. A coyote keeps its tail low, raises it to horizontal when threatening.'

I pictured the animal sniffing, then raising its tail and locking me into its gaze.

'You're teling me those were coyotes?'

'Or wild dogs.'

'There are coyotes in Appalachia?'

'There are coyotes al over North America.'

'So what?' I made a mental vow to check.

'So nothing. I just thought you might want to know.'

'It was stil terrifying.'

'Damn right. But it's not the worst thing you've ever been through.'

===OO=OOO=OO===

Ryan was right. Though frightening, the coyote incident was not my worst experience. But the days that folowed were contenders. I spent every waking moment up to my elbows in shattered flesh, separating commingled remains and reassociating body parts. As part of a team of pathologists, dentists, and other anthropologists, I determined age, sex, race, and height, analyzed X rays, compared antemortem and postmortem skeletal features, and interpreted injury patterns. It was a gruesome task, made even grimmer by the youth of most of those being analyzed.

For many, the stress was too much. Some hung in, running on the rim until tremors, tears, or unbearable nightmares finaly won out. These were the ones who would require For many, the stress was too much. Some hung in, running on the rim until tremors, tears, or unbearable nightmares finaly won out. These were the ones who would require extensive counseling. Others simply packed up and slipped back home.

But for most, the mind adjusted and the unthinkable became the ordinary. We mentaly detached and did what needed doing. Each night as I lay in bed, lonely and exhausted, I was comforted by the day's progress. I thought of the families, and assured myself that the system was working. We would grant them closure of sorts.

Then specimen number 387 arrived at my station.

CHAPTER FIVE

I'd forgotten the foot until a body tracker brought it to me.

Ryan and I had rarely crossed paths since our first breakfast. I'd been up and gone each day before seven, returning to High Ridge House long after dark to shower and colapse into bed. We'd exchanged only 'Good morning' or 'Have a good one,' and we'd yet to discuss his time undercover or his role in the crash investigation. Because a Quebec law officer had been on the plane, the Canadian government had asked that Ryan be involved. Al I knew was that the request had been granted.